


The Winter Tabby

by LagLemon



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Animal Abuse, Animal Transformation, Anxiety, Blood, Cats, Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Extremis, F/F, Forced Nudity, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra, Kidnapping, M/M, Mention of torture, Non-Consensual Touching, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Slow Build, The Winter Soldier - Freeform, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Tony has Extremis, Touch-Starved, Violence, accidentally forgetting to pill an animal, comics Extremis not IM3 Extremis, past animal death, pre-SteveBuckyTony - Freeform, threat of sexual assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:20:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 210,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LagLemon/pseuds/LagLemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tony is handed a cat carrier by a bloody and battered Steve, he thinks Steve wants him to simply take the cat to the vet and babysit it.  That should be a simple task, after all - this is Steve's cat, and Tony loves cats -  he'd do anything to keep one safe and sound.  He hadn't thought he would have another cat living with him after his old cat, Peggs, died of old age.  Tony knows cats.  This should be a piece of cake.  Unfortunately for Tony, the cat isn't exactly a cat - it's Bucky Barnes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be updating the tags/warnings as I go. In this chapter there's a lot of angst and talk of past animal death.

Tony hadn’t expected to see Steve that morning; he hadn’t really expected to see Steve that _week_ , if he was being honest with himself. While it was true that the Avengers lived in Stark Tower – _Avengers Tower_ , as the newspapers had started calling it – the close proximity didn’t mean much when it came to sharing each other’s company.

Iron Man and Captain America were friendly enough, yes, but Tony and Steve didn’t see each other much outside of Avengers missions or the occasional late night gym visit, and while Tony knew _Steve Rogers_ in private, he didn’t exactly know him all that well. Tony was ok with that, for the most part, even though it did hurt to see Steve palling around with Natasha, Thor, Clint and Bruce like the five of them had grown up together. It was a tolerable sort of hurt – manageable, even; he knew that the others weren’t doing it on purpose, or out of some cruel need to torment him – or at least, he assumed that wasn’t their intention. It was hard to tell with people. He’d had a lot of so-called friends screw him over in the past, and while Rhodey and Pepper were his rocks, his best friends, he wasn’t always so sure about other people.

Steve was just keeping his distance after everything that had happened on the Hellicarrier, that was all; they had both said some things they shouldn’t have, and they both hadn’t really apologized for it yet. Still – it made Tony’s chest ache when he saw that part of Steve, that goofy, _smiling_ , sweet Steve that seemed to be best friends with damn near everyone else in the Tower. He had promised himself and Pepper (mainly Pepper, and a little bit of Rhodey too) that he would do his best to be friends with his teammates, and he meant to do it no matter the cost – that was why he hadn’t just shut the car door and told Happy to drive off when he saw Steve coming towards him.

Steve’s hand was heavy on Tony’s shoulder. His face was sweaty and smeared with soot and there was a faint spatter of blood on the side of his nose. He looked ready to collapse. His too-tight white shirt was torn across the chest, giving the whole world a lovely view of his pink nipples. Tony had too bite his tongue to keep from mentioning the view. Sometimes life wasn’t fair; men as sexy as Steve shouldn’t be allowed to walk around looking like gods after they had had the ever-loving crap beaten out of them.

“Tony?” Steve wheezed.

“Jesus,” Tony said, giving his head a shake. He collected himself as he stepped away from the car door, burying away the amusement and wave of lust that had nearly bowled him over. Now was not the time – he had a schedule to stick to, and they couldn’t dawdle even if he wanted to. He and Pepper had a Board meeting waiting for them, and while he knew he was likely going to be late now that they had stopped, he knew he couldn’t brush Steve off and make a joke. There, hanging from one of Steve’s massive, beautiful, hands was a flowery purple cat carrier, the kind Tony normally saw in in the hands of elderly people and small children. Clearly something had happened; he had teased Steve a few times about rescuing kittens from trees, and all, but he hadn’t expected it to actually happen.

“What’s going on Cap?” Tony asked.

“I got into a fight,” Steve said, as if that explained everything. He held the cat carrier out, scratching at the back of his neck with his free hand. “I’m really sorry to do this – I know I’m butting in and I’m probably making you late for wherever it is your headed, but I need a really big favor.”

Tony cocked a manicured eyebrow. “What _kind_ of a favor?” he drawled. He was tempted to leer, but he had a feeling that Pepper would know what he had done without ever having seen him, and he enjoyed not having an egg-sized lump on the back of his head.

“Can you take Bucky to get looked over by a doctor? I’d do it myself, but I’ve got to head out or I’m going to miss the shot I have at tracking down the bastards who hurt him,” Steve said.

Tony nodded quickly. He took the cat carrier and yelped, nearly dropping it. “Holy hell, Rogers! What the fuck breed of cat _is_ this thing? It feels like you stuffed a bag of flour in here!” he grumbled. He peered through the metal bars at the mouth of the cat carrier. The cat hissed at him and pushed itself further into the back wall of the carrier, burying itself under a blood stained towel. The poor little guy looked like he had taken quite a beating – one that was decidedly worse than Steve’s. The sight alone made Tony want to run after the cat’s attacker too.

“Yeah, he’s a little heavy,” Steve said, smiling softly. “Thanks, Tony.” He squeezed Tony’s shoulder. “I’ll pay you back for whatever he needs.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony said, waving a hand at Steve. “I’ll take care of everything. Is there anything I should know?”

“I think his leg’s broken, and he’s going to need more than a few stitches,” Steve said with a sigh.

“Yikes,” Tony whistled. “Someone’s going to be a cranky boy when he’s getting that dealt with.” He set the cat carrier down gently on the back seat beside Pepper, ignoring her confused frown. “How long do you think you’re going to be gone? Did you want me to drop him at your place after he’s patched up?”

“I wish it was that simple, but Natasha thinks we’ll be gone at least a month, and Clint seems to think we’ll be gone for at least _three_ months. I’ll phone and check in when I find out more. I think we’re going to be keeping things pretty quiet.” He shook his head. “I’ll have to wait and see – it’s been so hectic, I didn’t even get the chance to get him any supplies. Can you get him some stuff? I’ll pay you back for everything, I promise.” He turned back towards the tower, and called out over his shoulder as he began to jog away. “Thanks again, Tony! I owe you one!”

“Yeah,” Tony muttered, watching Steve step through the front door. Well, he mused, this was one way to get Steve to like him. He stepped into the car, mindful of the cat carrier and settled in his seat, closing the door behind him slowly as to not spook the cat any more than necessary.

Pepper peered into the carrier cautiously. “Oh my god,” she said. “Poor kitty! What the hell was Captain Rogers _doing_ this morning?”

“I have no idea,” Tony said. “Happy? Change of plans, buddy. Take us to the vet.” The moment the words left his mouth, he broke out in a cold sweat. If there was any other way to get Bucky patched up, he would have done it, but no one in the tower was trained to deal with an animal. Bruce could deal with people for the most part, but he couldn’t stitch up a surly cat.

“Got it,” Happy said. He glanced over his shoulder. “Is that ok with you, Ms. Potts?”

Pepper pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Absolutely,” she said, putting her hand on the cat carrier to steady it as they pulled out into traffic. “I’ll cancel the board meeting. I’d rather spend the time sitting with you in the waiting room – I don’t want you to have to do that alone.”

Tony smiled in relief. “Thanks,” he said.

Pepper smiled. “They’ll be able to handle anything that happened to the little guy. This’ll be easy. And it’s not like you haven’t had a cat before. We all know the drill,” she said.

“That’s true,” Tony said. He sighed. It had been _years_ since his cat Peggs – a silky light brown Persian with a squishy face and fur that stuck to everything – had died. No one on the team had ever met her, of course. He had grown up with Peggs; she had been Jarvis’ cat – _human_ Jarvis’ cat. Jarvis had found her in a box on the side of the road and had brought her home. Howard had sneered at the kitten but backed off for some reason; Tony had never figured out why, exactly, but he had heard Peggy Carter’s name mentioned a few times in their arguments and when he had asked his mother about it, she had told him that Anna, Jarvis’ wife, had wanted a cat to sit with her, and that had been that.

Tony had inherited Peggs when Jarvis and his parents had died in a car accident; Anna had died a few years before that of Early Onset Alzheimer’s, and there had been no one to take the cat except for him. Back then he hadn’t thought he would ever have a pet. His father had had house rules, and the first one on the list had been ‘no animals allowed’. Of course it hadn’t applied to Peggs – just to anything Tony tried to bring home.

Tony had fallen in love with Peggs the moment he had laid eyes on her; Jarvis had too, and so had Anna – and even Maria had had a soft-spot for her. Tony had spent every day after school playing with her in the kitchen while Jarvis cooked, getting her to chase him around the kitchen table while he dragged a chunk of string around behind him. He was pretty sure he had known that cat better than he had known half of the people he went to school with.

Inheriting Peggs that way had been hard. Peggs presence had lessened the sting of losing everyone he had loved in one blow, but it hadn’t changed the fact that he was now alone in the world – aside from Obie, no one had been around. Over the years things had smoothed out, but a part of him had waited, cringing internally, for that same, terrible, blow to come again as he and Peggs grew older and older. It had hurt to lose Peggs, even if it had been to old age and health issues – things he hadn’t been able to control. Peggs had been the sweetest cat he had ever known, and he after he had interred her ashes in the Stark Family Crypt, he had vowed never to get another cat; nothing could compare to her.

Tony eyed the cat carrier and its hissing occupant and wondered if he was getting himself into trouble.

 

 

Pepper sat beside Tony in the Playful Pet Vet Office’s intake room. The front desk staff had taken Bucky’s carrier into the back to deal with his injuries while they waited to free up space in one of the smaller examination rooms so Tony and Pepper could talk with the Vet.

This was Peggs’ old vet office.

Tony shifted nervously in his seat beside Pepper, taking the room in in pieces. The staff had change a lot of the décor, but that was to be expected. It had been years since he had been here. Peggs’ vet had died a few years back; the man’s daughter was running the place now. Tony trusted her judgement. They had talked whenever he and Peggs had been in for their routine checkups. The daughter, Melody, had been just getting into classes to become a vet back then, and she had been excited to see a cat as old and majestic as Peggs – and Tony had been more than happy to show her off. Peggs hadn’t minded; she had gotten extra scritches and pets for her trouble.

“It’s ok,” Pepper murmured.

“I know,” Tony said, hunching his shoulders. The last time he had been here, he had had to put Peggs down and it had been one of the worst days of his life. He hadn’t ever thought he would come back here again after that. He hoped to god he didn’t have to get _this_ cat put down – Bucky, he reminded himself as he twisted the bottom of his coat in his fingers, this cat’s name was _Bucky_ – because he wasn’t so sure he could handle telling Steve that _Bucky_ had died, let alone see it happen.

“Everything’s taken care of. The NDA papers will be here by the end of the day,” Pepper said, her voice low. “I know you trust Melody, but I’d feel better if she signed one.”

“That’s fine with me,” Tony said, glanced around again, trying to prove just how fine everything was. The fine didn’t last long. He spotted Peggs’ picture, framed there on the ‘You will Be Missed’ wall, amidst all the other pets who had died, and smiled tiredly, dropping his gaze down to his knees. He had the same picture of Peggs at home on his desk; it was the best one he’d had of her. He still kicked himself for not having taken more pictures back when he had had the opportunity. Christ – this was a lot harder than he had thought it would be. So much for burying everything away for good. He ran his fingers through his hair and wondered idly if he could get away with running out of the front door at top speed.

“Tony?” Pepper murmured. “Are you alright?”

“I’m just thinking about new upgrades I need to get finished,” Tony lied. He cleared his throat. “So, uh, why do you think Steve named his cat Bucky?”

“I don’t know,” Pepper said. “People are strange. Maybe he just wanted to keep a little piece of his friend with him. That’s his friend’s name, isn’t it? Bucky?”

“That’s it alright,” Tony said. “James ‘Bucky’ Buchanan Barnes – Captain America’s best friend in the whole wide world.”

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know all about your Bucky Barnes and Captain America obsession,” Pepper said with a chuckle, flicking Tony in the shoulder.

“Good,” Tony said. “Because we’re never speaking about it in public again.” He grinned at Pepper when she rolled her eyes at him.

“Sure, Tony,” Pepper said. She reached into his pocket and pulled out his Stark Phone – complete with Captain America phone case. “I’m sure that’ll stop people from figuring it out.”

Tony stole his phone back. “Why do I keep your on my staff? You’re so _mean_!”

“I’m the meanie who bought you that phone case,” Pepper said with a snort.

Tony smirked. “ _Enabler_ ,” he said.

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony felt like he had swallowed a bucketful of ice. He hated being in Doctor’s offices just as much as he hated being in vet’s offices; both were far too stressful to stay in for longer than five minutes at a time. He put on a brave face, smiled brightly, and stood up, deliberately waiting for Pepper to gather up here purse and jacket before he moved.

The vet assistant smiled back at Tony and gestured to an open examination room; there was a green bird drawn on the taupe door. “You can take a seat inside and the Doctor will be right in.”

“Alrighty,” Tony said, nodding jerkily to her. He lurked behind Pepper even though he should have gone into the room first; Pepper smiled at the vet assistant and took Tony’s hand as she walked inside.

The examination room was larger than it looked from the outside. There was a dark grey padded bench against the back wall positioned so that those seated would be able to sit beside the examination table. Tony sat down on the edge of it, getting as close to the door they had come in through as possible. Pepper ruffled Tony’s hair, and stepped around him so she could take a seat, all the while watching the door across from them, the one the vet and her assistants would use to come in and join them.

The vet assistant closed the door they had come in through to give them some privacy.

The door across from them remained firmly closed.

Tony let out a shaky breath. The examination room was decorated with posters that explained the different types of behavior to watch out for in cats – behavior that meant something was very, very wrong. A stainless steel examination table on wheels sat in the middle of the room, glinting under the fluorescent lighting. There was a counter and sink beside the table. Jars filled with cotton balls, bandages and dog and cat treats lined the wall. The room smelled of antiseptic spray and wet fur; they were both smells that seemed impossible to remove once they had sunk in.

“You know, when I said I didn’t want to go to that board meeting, I didn’t mean I wanted to do _this_ instead,” Tony said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“ _Agreed_ ,” Pepper said. She set her purse and jacket down beside her on the bench. She clasped her hands over her knees and gnawed on her lower lip as she looked around, taking in the room at her own pace. She hadn’t been in a vet office as often as Tony, but she had done her fair share of time sitting in waiting rooms. This one didn’t seem to bother her much at all, although she didn’t exactly seem comfortable, per say. She rolled her shoulders and drummed her fingers on her leg.

“What’s up?” Tony drawled. He tried to focus on Pepper instead of the room.

“The board wasn’t happy about the rescheduling, but they didn’t seem _too_ upset once they found out where we were going,” Pepper said.

“You told them we were going to the _vet_?” Tony asked. He hadn’t expected that. He and Pepper both didn’t like having Board members knowing too much about their private lives. Business was business after all – it and real life didn’t exactly mix.

“I told them you were going to the vet because _Captain America_ needed a personal favor,” Pepper said, with a knowing smirk.

“ _Ah_ ,” Tony said, leaning back against the padded bench. “That’ll do it. No one can say no to Cap – and even those bastards like to pretend they feel patriotic sometimes.”

“That’s what I was counting on,” Pepper said.

Someone knocked on the door on the other side of the room.

Tony tensed.

The door opened and Melody, a tall woman with curly brown hair and olive-toned skin, walked in, carrying Bucky. The poor little bastard was limp, hanging awkwardly from her arms while wrapped in a blanket – not because she wasn’t holding him the right way, but because he was so goddamned _big_. It looked like Melody had brought in a _dog_ by accident.

Had someone figured out how to give super serum to pets? Was that what had happened? Had Hydra experimented on animals – had Steve liberated the cat from one of their facilities? Were they even sure this was a cat and not a miniature lion? Hydra scientists loved experimentation, after all; it wouldn’t have surprised him to find out they had tried to breed some kind of super-cat just for shits and giggles.

Tony jumped up to help as Melody struggled to close the door. She smiled at him as she shifted the cat’s weight half into Tony’s arms and closed the door with her foot. Together, they carried the limp cat over to the examination table, and set him down.

Pepper stood slowly, moving over to stand beside the examination table, watching the cat with a keen eye. “That’s one big cat,” she said with a whistle.

Tony ran his hand over Bucky’s back and grinned. Bucky was a medium-haired chocolate tabby with black stripes that circled his legs and splashed their way across the rest of his body. He had long black whiskers, and white patches of fur on his feet, belly, and muzzle. The fur on his face was longer and fluffier than the rest of him, and it stuck out in tufts. His tail looked like it had been replaced by a raggedy duster with all the feathers missing off the right-hand side; it had clearly been a part of the attack somehow. Bucky’s nose was pink, and there was a bloody scratch across it. The cat’s blue eyes were ringed with dark circles of fur, as though someone had drawn on him with a marker, and while he was drugged up, he seemed _very_ aware of what was going on around him. The cat was _filthy_ , even though the vet techs had very obviously cleaned him up already; his fur was matted with dirt and blood in places. The fur on his belly had been shaved off, and while the fur that covered it looked like it had been white, his belly was a delightful shade of pale pink. Tony’s eyes settled on the stump that was the cat’s left front leg. He frowned. “Is that new?” he asked. “Did he come in like that?”

Melody frowned. She stroked Bucky as she checked patches of fur that hadn’t been shaved, looking for scratches that might have been missed. When she was satisfied, she looked up and locked eyes with Tony, her gaze steady and her expression calm. “This lovely boy’s leg has been missing for quite some time now, by the looks of it. The wound is healed over, and while there is some pretty heavy scar tissue, it’s not anything that should cause him any trouble. There were a lot of scratches all over him and what looked like a stab wound, but don’t worry. We stitched it up and he’s going to be just fine.”

“I was wondering why you shaved the poor bastard,” Tony said dryly. “What did his belly do, aside from being _adorable_?” He wanted to reach out and give that lovely belly a poke, but knew better than to reach in and pet a cat without permission; he liked his fingers attached to his hand.

Melody laughed. “He does have a cute belly, doesn’t he?” she cooed. “Unfortunately for him, the fur there was too tangled and matted with blood and debris – we were afraid he’d been hurt so we shaved him as a precaution.” She picked up Bucky’s right front paw and held it out, gently feeling each of his footpads and toes before checking his claws. “He’s been fighting,” she said, sighing as she looked down at the cat’s bloody claws, “He’ll need a wash once he’s healed up a bit – we took care of the worst of it, so don’t worry about trying to scrub him down right away. He was quite the handful.”

“I’ll bet,” Tony said. He ogled the cat’s front paw. “He’s a polydactyl cat. Huh. Didn’t think I’d get to see one. He’s got little people hands, Pepper – that’s so freaky.”

“I take it you haven’t seen him before now?” Melody said with a laugh.

“Bucky belongs to a friend of mine,” Tony said, shrugging. “He asked me to take Buck-aroo in and get him checked out. I don’t know what happened – or where my friend got that _hideous_ cat carrier.”

“I think the real question is how your friend managed to squish this guy _inside_ it,” Melody said with a snort, shaking her head. “That cat really wedged himself in there. We almost couldn’t get him out.”

Tony stroked the top of Bucky’s head, mindful of the stitches and scrape marks. The cat rolled its head to the side and stared mournfully up at Tony, as though blaming him for everything bad that had happened to him.

“We’re going to have to put a cast on his back left leg in a few minutes,” Melody said, stroking a hand down Bucky’s back. “One of the techs is setting everything up, so I thought I’d bring him in here to you and let you know how he was doing so you wouldn’t worry. He’s heavily sedated, as you can tell, so it’s not going to bother him much.”

“I’m betting he _bit_ somebody,” Pepper said with a knowing smile. She peered down at the cat from beside Tony, and but didn’t touch the cat. “Poor kitty. Whoever did this should get a one way trip to hell.”

“If you find out, make sure you call it in,” Melody said. “Because of your NDA I can’t, but I highly recommend that you do. The bastard that did this needs to be caught.”

“Don’t worry. We’re already on the hunt,” Tony said. He moved his hand slowly, stroking Bucky’s soft ears one at a time. “Believe me – none of us want some abusive asshole walking the streets.”

Melody smiled grimly. “Good.”

“Can we take him home with us once he’s done with his cast?” Pepper asked, leaning against the table.

“Yes, he should be able to go home tonight. He’s going to get some antibiotics – a precaution,” Melody said, noticing Tony’s concern, “and he’ll need to take painkillers for his leg for a few days. The stitches will need to come out in a week or so. I’ll make sure you have an appointment made in advance and we’ll call the day before to remind you.” Melody turned, locking eyes with Tony. “Do you know how to pill a cat Mr. Stark?”

Tony grimaced. He did indeed have that particular skill; he had given Peggs medication for her high blood pressure every day for the last two years of her life. Happy, Pepper and Rhodey all knew how to give pills too; they had been kind enough to babysit when he had been forced to take long business trips. “I’ve done it a lot more than I would have liked,” he admitted. “My old cat needed them every day.”

The vet’s eyes widened. “Oh – yes. Peggs, right?”

“Yep,” Tony said, his throat suddenly dry. “Peggs. She was a good cat.”

Pepper put her hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Peggs was a sweetheart,” she murmured. She turned, misty-eyed, to Melody. “We know what we’re doing, don’t worry. I’m assuming it’s just some pills every few hours, right?”

“That’s right,” Melody said, clearing her throat. She patted Bucky’s furry head; he growled lowly at her but didn’t move. “We’ll sedate him again before we send him home. It’ll make the trip back easier on you three. Did you want us to use the same cat carrier he came in with?”

“No, I think I’ll get Mr. Barnes here an upgraded one – one that won’t squash him. I’ll make sure it’s here before we take him home.” Tony pulled out his phone. He was going to need a lot more than just a new cat carrier if he was going to be babysitting a cat, but thankfully, he knew exactly where to get everything; this wasn’t the first time he had gone shopping for a cat. Some of what he needed was easy to find. He had Pegg’s old scratching post in the basement of the tower, having moved it there from Malibu a good year before the Malibu house had been destroyed, and it would work perfectly for Bucky. It wasn’t all that tall, and while it was a teensy bit shredded in places, it had a nifty little cat-house at the top and a bunch of landing pads at different heights scattered around the tree in a circle; Bucky could pick where he wanted to sit and climb it leisurely when he was feeling better. Tony was glad he had kept the scratching post; he hadn’t been able to bring himself to throw it out, and since Peggs hadn’t really used it much, it would be virtually scent-free. Tony stroked Bucky’s ears with his thumb as he typed out a list of things he would need to buy, noticing idly that Bucky was leaning into his touch. “Don’t worry buddy. You’re going to be ok. I’m going to take good care of you.”

 

 

By the time Melody was ready to release Bucky into the world again, everything that Tony had ordered in had been shipped and assembled in his penthouse. Happy had been busy while Tony and Pepper were trapped waiting in in the vet’s office, and what Tony hadn’t been able to get his hands on, Happy and Jarvis had found for him.

The penthouse was stocked with everything they might conceivably need. Peggs’ old scratching post had been brought up and set beside the TV. There were containers of gourmet wet cat food stashed in the cupboards, and bags of gourmet cat kibble waiting beside the sink, all of it fresh off the production line. A box of cat toys and treats had been stashed in the living room beside the couch, within easy reach of the scratching post. There were three different types of brushes waiting to be used on Bucky’s fur once he was healed up, five different kinds of kitty beds waiting to be tested out and last, but not least, there was a litterbox, filled with the fanciest litter money could buy. Bucky was going to be pooping in _style_.

Bucky had the best of the best; nothing was cheap, or made with crappy parts. Steve was probably going to shit a brick if he ever saw the price tags, but that was ok. Tony had a plan, and he knew that Jarvis and Pepper would back him up if worse came to worse; there had been a lot of things to buy, and considering it would all have to last for _years_ , in his eyes it was worth the extra money.

Happy brought Bucky’s new cat carrier into the vet office, holding it out in front of him as if he was carrying a miniature throne. He set it down with a flourish so Tony could look it over and backed up, watching the door and the other visitors to the vet office with suspicion, as though he expected to be attacked at any minute.

The cat carrier was made of black plastic, the kind that wouldn’t absorb odors and wouldn’t scuff unless something powerful took a swing at it. It was longer than most cat carriers and wide enough for a cat more than twice Bucky’s size and weight. The interior was padded with a soft, removable blanket, and there were holes in the sides so the wayward traveler could see out and get a whiff of the air without getting himself hurt or stuck on anything. It wasn’t perfect – nothing really was, considering he could have designed something far, far, better – but it was good enough for the time being.

“Is that what you were looking for, boss?” Happy asked, shifting nervously in place.

“It’ll have to do, Hap,” Tony said. He carried the carrier over to the vet tech who had been patiently waiting for its arrival; she took it from him and handed him a bag of medication in return. He opened up the bag and peeked at the contents. There wasn’t much inside aside from a slip of paper with instructions for cat-pilling on it and Bucky’s pain pills, but the bag still felt heavy in Tony’s hands. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb. Pepper was down the street getting them dinner, and he couldn’t _wait_ to get the hell out of here before he got a migraine. He turned to the woman running the front desk and leaned forwards, flashing her his best smile – the one he used to dazzle the paparazzis – hoping to speed things up. “What do I owe you guys?” he asked.

The woman looked up from the orange bowling-ball-of-a-cat that was snoring into her stomach and wheeled herself closer to the computer; the cat didn’t even twitch in its sleep. “Let’s take a look,” she said. She pursed her lips as she located the total at the end of the bill. “This is quite the list,” she said. “It looks like we ran a battery of tests on Bucky, all of which are being done in-house – the results are still pending on some of it. We should get all of that back within the week.”

“Right,” Tony said. He should have just asked them to send the data to him so he could run the tests himself, he thought with a grimace, but it was a little too late now considering they’d already done the work.

“Dr. Melody felt it was best to run a urine and blood panel to make sure there wasn’t anything funky going on with Bucky in the background that we couldn’t see. The x-rays and CT-scan results will be in around the same time as the panel results. Those are pretty pricey, but necessary for diagnostics. With the emergency medical care – stitches, cleaning, painkillers, and antibiotics, etc – it comes out to fifteen thousand, nine hundred and seventy six dollars.” She smiled sympathetically before speaking again, her voice far too chipper for Tony’s liking. “Would you like to pay that now? I can set up a pay-as-you go plan if you’d like.”

Tony pulled out his credit card and handed it over. “I’ll pay for it all now,” he said. He glanced over at a little boy who was sobbing into his golden retriever’s fur; the dog looked like it was ready to keel over even though it was only a few years old, and the boy’s father looked like he was sweating through every last article of clothing he owned while trying to figure out what to do.

“I take it not everyone can afford treatment?” Tony asked with a grimace.

The woman sighed. “It’s unfortunate, but there aren’t a lot of medical plans for pets that people can get,” she said.

“I guess I’m one of the lucky ones, huh,” Tony said, looking over his shoulder at the intake room. There were at least ten people milling about, waiting their turn, and most of them looked tired and upset. “Tell you what,” he drawled. “Add up what they all owe and bill it to me.”

The woman dropped Tony’s card, her eyes wide. “What?”

“ _Seriously_. Put it all on my card – my treat,” Tony said, flashing a toothy grin. “Believe me. I’m good for it.”

The woman picked Tony’s credit card up with shaking hands and then squinted at it. As she read the name on it, her lips moved but no sound coming out. She looked up at Tony, her mouth hanging open. “You’re… you’re _him_ ,” she croaked.

Tony reached into his pocket where Pepper had stashed the extra NDA forms she had had couriered in and handed one over to the woman at the desk. “Sign at the bottom. I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us.”

The woman signed the NDA hurriedly, not even reading it, and handed it back as though absolutely sure it would burst into flames if she didn’t move fast enough. “You’re a good man, Mr. Stark,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper.

Tony chuckled. “I wouldn’t go _that_ far.”

The front door opened with a cheerful chime behind Tony. Pepper sauntered towards him with two massive bags of take-out held daintily in her arms. She took one look at the woman manning the front desk and sighed wearily.

“You paid everyone’s bills, didn’t you,” she said.

“I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about,” Tony said. He turned away and whistled lowly, trying not to watch the way the golden retriever was trembling as it tried to stay upright. He wanted to turn around and order the vet to take the dog in right then and there, but he knew that if he decided to take charge, it likely wouldn’t go over very well. Not everyone liked accepting handouts if they knew where it was coming from; it was easier for people to get things for free without knowing who had footed the bill.

Pepper rolled her eyes. She set the bags of take-out down on the counter beside Tony’s elbow. “Oh, I’m not mad at you. I just kind of expected it to happen earlier in the day,” she said with a laugh. “Why do you think I brought you so many extra NDA’s? I know you too well, Tony.” She tweaked his ear and smiled at the woman manning the desk. “He does this every time he’s at the vet,” she said. “He thinks he’s being all _secretive_ about it, but he’s really, really not.”

“I see,” the woman said. She beamed at Pepper. “Well, I’m sure everyone will appreciate it – even if they don’t know where the money is coming from.”

“I’m sure they will,” Pepper said.

The golden retriever trapped in the boy’s arms let out a wretched cough. Tony didn’t like the sound of it. He smiled at the woman manning the desk. “By the way – if you’ve got anyone on your billing list that needs permanent care – bill me for that too.”

“Are you sure?” the woman said, slowly, as though not quite sure what she was hearing

“I’m sure,” Tony said. “Tell her I’m sure, Pep.” He turned to Pepper, and smiled sweetly.

“He’s sure,” Pepper said with a laugh. “If you have anyone who you think need extra help, send the bills to us and we’ll pay for them too – we’re thinking of setting up a charity.”

“That would be wonderful,” the woman said. She held out Tony’s credit card and smiled brightly; this time the look was real, less plastic and forced. “Thank you. I hope your cat feels better soon.”

“Same here,” Tony said.

The vet tech opened the door beside the front desk and stepped out with Bucky’s carrier held in front of her. She handed the carrier over, and blew the hair out from in front of her face; she was covered in a light sheen of sweat. “Bucky’s still drugged up, but he should come out of it fully in a half hour or so. Just so you know, we put an Elizabethan collar on him because we don’t want him nibbling at his stitches. You’ll have to keep it on for a day or two just to be on the safe side,” she said.

“Aww,” Tony said, lifting the carrier up. He set it down on the counter beside Pepper’s take-out. “Poor Bucky has the wear the cone of shame.” He peered through the bars of the carrier’s gated door and found himself _glared_ at by a very irritated looking cat.

“Did we need to sign anything else?” Pepper asked, picking up the take-out. She took the printed receipt from the receptionist and folded it up neatly, putting it in her purse.

“I think you’re good to go,” the vet tech said. “We’ll call you when we get the results from the urine test and the blood draws. If he starts acting funny – walking strangely, looking around like he’s confused, banging his head on something – bring him in right away.”

“Gotcha,” Tony said, giving the vet tech a thumbs up. He grunted and picked up the cat carrier. “Christ. Did Steve give me a cat or a frozen turkey?”

“It sure _looked_ like a cat,” Happy said, holding open the front door.

“It sure did,” Tony said.

 

 

The trip home was pleasant and quiet; Bucky was docile in his carrier, and despite a few angry yowls when they hit a speed bump or a pothole on the ride home, he hadn’t made a single sound. Once parked under the tower, and free of the car, they took the elevator up to Tony’s penthouse.

Pepper took the take-out to the kitchen and set everything down with a yawn.

“Can I head out for the night, boss?” Happy asked, glancing down at his watch.

“Sure – go get some sleep,” Pepper said. “I’ve got to get up early to work on all the stuff I rescheduled. I might as well spend the night here so I can sleep in a little. We’ll call you if we need you.”

“Alright. Good night. Try not to get mauled in your sleep.” Happy waved goodbye and headed back for the elevator, disappearing inside.

Tony set the cat carrier down on the floor in the middle of the penthouse where the carpeting was the thickest. Here, if Bucky came flying out of the carrier like a furry madman, he would be safe from harm. There would be no slipping and falling on laminate flooring, no accidental crashes of any kind – unless the cat decided to run head first into one of the couches. “Here you go, sweetheart,” Tony said, opening up the cat carrier door. He took a step back so Bucky wouldn’t feel threatened, and waited.

Bucky sneezed and turned away from the carrier door, pressing his face against his hot pink cast.

“Well that was uneventful,” Tony grumbled. To be fair, Bucky not making a break for it wasn’t exactly _unexpected_. The cat was still partially hopped up on drugs, and the poor bastard had three good legs, and only one of his back legs was operational. It would have been _terrifying_ if the cat had tried to make a break for it.

Tony resisted the urge to drop down onto his knees to peer into the carrier. He knew when to leave an uncomfortable cat alone. Peggs had nearly slashed his face when he had peered into her carrier the first time he had seen her after Jarvis’ death; she had taught him all the harsh lessons when it came to cat ownership, and while she had been prickly at the time, he hadn’t been able to blame her for her behavior – he had been just as prickly and angry as she had been.

Tony threw himself onto a chair at the kitchen table, watching Bucky’s carrier idly over his shoulder as Pepper loaded up plates with food and brought them over. “Do you think I should put some food out for him yet?” he asked, licking his lips. He and Pepper had had Happy bring them sandwiches for lunch, but that had been hours ago and he was ready to go face first into his plate.

“I think it might be better if some of the drugs work their way out of his system first,” Pepper said, eyeing the cat carrier. “We don’t want him choking on his own vomit.”

“Well that’s a lovely thought,” Tony said with a sigh. He glanced back at the carrier again, pursing his lips. He wondered what would have happened to Bucky if it hadn’t been Tony Stark standing in that vet office with a credit card that could have bought a few houses without any trouble. Someone with a normal bank account wouldn’t have been able to afford the kind of care the little guy had needed – that was pretty clear. He made a note in his head with Extremis to get Pepper to put pet insurance – _affordable_ pet insurance with one hundred percent coverage – into the perks of working at SI. A charity wasn’t a bad idea either; he was going to have to start one up, and soon.

“Bucky’ll be alright,” Pepper said, handing Tony a fork. They were having Greek food for dinner tonight, one of Pepper’s favourites, and she had piled his plate high with roasted potatoes, Greek salad, and chunks of grilled chicken and lamb. She set a plate of pitas down on the table beside Tony and smacked his hand when he tried to steal two. “Eat your salad first,” she said.

“Meanie,” Tony said, stabbing a piece of feta-covered cucumber. He popped it into his mouth and ate it before she could glare at him again and then prodded an olive with his fork just so he could watch it roll around his plate.

“So,” Pepper said, starting in on her pile of Greek salad, “Did Steve say how long he was going to be gone?”

“He didn’t tell me _fuck all_ ,” Tony said. “He handed Bucky off like a bunch of library books he wanted returned and left. I got the feeling like he didn’t have a lot of time for big explanations though, so I guess I should cut him some slack.”

“He’s on a mission of some kind?” Pepper asked.

“Probably,” Tony said. He hated being left out of the loop, but there were some things he knew Steve had to do on his own. If he had to guess, he would say the mysterious mission had something to do with Bucky Barnes – the _human_ Bucky Barnes – the Winter Soldier. He itched to dig up information on Hydra’s pet assassin, but knew that there likely wouldn’t be anything new to be had on SHIELD’s servers, not so soon after the last time he had poked around. Steve had been looking for Bucky for quite a while now, and when it came to Bucky Barnes, Steve would have walked barefoot over hot coals if it meant getting some new information. Steve hadn’t outright told Tony about any of the missions he had gone on to find Bucky, but Natasha had filled him in. There wasn’t much hope of Bucky appearing any time soon – not unless Bucky decided to show up on his own. Tony kind of felt bad for the guy. Living a life on the run wasn’t fun, and having to do it while off the grid and bring hunted by a determined super soldier would be rough.

“I’m assuming it’s not an Avengers thing,” Pepper said, picking up a pita. She tore it into pieces and dipped one in the humus on her plate.

“I’m pretty sure he would have said if it was,” Tony said. He nibbled at his food contemplatively, enjoying the taste while at the same time hoping his stomach would keep everything down. He was going to have a nice long shower once he was done, one that would wash away the smell of the vet’s office, and then he was going to bury himself in work so he didn’t have to think about anything for the next few hours.

“No Extremis tonight,” Pepper said, rapping Tony across the knuckles with her fork

“Huh?” Tony said, jerked from his thoughts. He smiled sheepishly at Pepper; when he had injected Extremis into his body, she had taken it upon herself to police his ‘Extremis Time’, as she had called it, when she was spending time at his place. It worried her that he could spend hours and hours awake now, working when he should have been resting. He had been annoyed at first, but after his first and only week-long Extremis binge, he had realized why she had been so intent on making him keep Extremis-free hours. He had woken up on the floor, having passed out, and there had been green apple smoothie caked in his hair; he had smelled like a mixture of body odor, motor oil and rotting food. It hadn’t been pretty, and he had had to take three showers to get rid of the sticky gunk. After that he had been more than happy to have her reminding him to shut Extremis out for a while; it was like having a happier, friendlier alarm and if it kept her happy it kept him happy too.

“Tony,” Pepper growled.

“I swear – I wasn’t using it this time. I was just thinking – you know. The old fashioned way,” Tony said.

“Alright,” Pepper said, pointing at him with her fork. “I believe you _this time_ but I mean it. _No Extremis_! Pay full attention to the cat – no work tonight.”

Tony let out a huffed whine. “But I can build him a new _leg_ ,” he said, wiggling his fingers. “I can draw up blueprints and everything! He’ll love it.”

“And I’m sure he will, but what Bucky needs more of is someone to sit with him so he doesn’t go stir-crazy and try to eat the couch one corner at a time,” Pepper said.

“Fine,” Tony grumbled. “But I get to take a shower before cat-sitting duty.”

“That’s fine with me,” Pepper said, spearing a chunk of chicken. “You’re better hurry up and eat then. I’ve still got work to do, and I’d rather not waste any more of the night than necessary.”

“Why do _you_ get to do work and I can’t?” Tony teased.

“I get to work because I _have_ to work – you, on the other hand,” Pepper said, “You have to take care of Captain America’s _baby_.”

Tony sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, wrinkling his nose at the feeling. “Fair enough,” he said.

 

 

When Tony came back from his shower, he found Pepper sitting on the couch with her tablet balanced on her knee and the back half of Bucky wedged under the couch across from her. The cat couldn’t quite get his entire body under the couch because of the Elizabethan collar, but he had tried; he was watching Pepper suspiciously. The Elizabethan collar was funny on its own, but this was just _priceless_.

“Jarvis?” Are you getting pictures of this jerk?” Tony asked, biting his lower lip to keep from laughing.

“Pictures have been saved and are available on your private server, sir,” Jarvis said.

“When did he climb out of his carrier?” Tony asked. He crept closer to Bucky and saw that, to his surprise, the cat appeared to be outright _glaring_ at him again. He wondered what he had done to deserve that.

Pepper didn’t look up from her work. “He crept out while I was in the kitchen getting my tablet out of my purse. Captain Rogers has one very stealthy cat,” she said.

“Stealthy to a _point_ ,” Tony said, nodding to the Elizabethan collar. He chuckled, his hands dropping to his hips. “Poor baby. Outwitted by the cone of shame.”

The cat continued to glare at Tony; he wiggled a little, trying to pull his head and the Elizabethan collar under the edge of the couch, but with his broken back leg and a missing front leg, it an impossible task. He let out a huffed hiss of annoyance.

“Do you want to pill him now?” Pepper asked, setting her tablet aside.

“I’m thinking yes. He’s moving around, so the sedatives have probably worn off. Hey, Jarvis,” Tony said, “How much time is there left on the alarm I set?”

“There is approximately five minutes and six seconds left,” Jarvis said. “I believe it would be acceptable to give Mr. Barnes his pills now.”

“Mr. Barnes?” Tony drawled, peering down at the cat. “That’s _adorable_ , Jarvis.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jarvis said. “The pills are currently sitting on the kitchen counter beside the wet cat food. I suggest giving Mr. Barnes something to eat after his pill, as the medication causes nausea if taken on an empty stomach.”

Pepper stood up, smoothing down her skirt. She went to the kitchen and came back with the orange pill bottle that held all of Bucky’s medication. “Alright,” she said. “Where do you want to do this?”

Tony pursed his lips. “I guess the middle of the room is alright,” he said, eyeing the carpet. There was plenty of space here, even with the cat carrier still sitting out; Bucky would be safe from crashing into anything if he tried to scramble away from them, and they wouldn’t accidentally whack themselves on anything either. Tony dropped down to his knees slowly, making sure his eyes weren’t locked on the cat’s so he wouldn’t look threatening. “Ok, kitty, kitty,” he said. “I’m just going to ease you out of there, ok sweetheart?”

Bucky yowled at Tony’s touch and squirmed, trying to get out from under Tony’s hand. The fur on his back stood on end; what was left of the fur on his tail fluffed up.

“Oh _honey-pie_ ,” Tony murmured, slipping his hands under Bucky’s belly. “I’m not going to _hurt_ you.”

Bucky’s one good back foot kicked pitifully at Tony’s hand, but his claws missed flesh. He wailed pathetically as he was slid out from under the couch, and desperately dug the claws on his front foot into the carpet in one final act of defiance.

Pepper sat down beside Tony, keeping out of range from Bucky’s good front leg. She read the directions on the pill bottle and opened it up, putting a single white pill in the centre of her palm.

“He only needs the one?” Tony asked, turning Bucky around so the cat’s hindquarters were tucked neatly between his knees. Bucky’s bright pink cast rested against his thigh, heavy and awkward. He felt awful moving the cat so easily; it seemed almost cruel to be doing this, but it was for Bucky’s own good. He didn’t want the poor guy _suffering_ – cats were far too good at putting up with pain if left to their own devices.

“Just the one. That’s what the bottle says,” Pepper said. She scooted across the floor until her knees were almost touching Tony’s. Bucky sat trapped between them, a seething ball of fluffed-up rage.

“Ok,” Tony said. “I’m thinking he’s a biter, so we’d better do this fast.”

“Agreed,” Pepper said.

Tony unfastened the Elizabethan collar and set it aside. The moment it hit the ground, Bucky’s teeth sank into Tony’s hand.

“Mother _fucker_!” Tony hissed, moving his free hand along the side of Bucky’s jaw. He eased his hand out of the cat’s mouth and gave it a shake, wincing. Bucky flattened himself against the ground and let out a low growl as though he expected Tony to take a swing at him.

“Are you ok?” Pepper asked, her eyes wide with worry.

Tony checked his hand over. He couldn’t find a single puncture mark, although there were three different tooth imprints in his skin. “I’m fine,” he said. “I guess he was just giving me a warning nip.”

“I guess so,” Pepper said. She sighed and shook her head. “While I hate pressing our luck, I’m thinking we need to get this pill in him now, before he starts drawing blood.”

“Avoiding that would be a plus,” Tony grumbled in agreement. He smoothed the fur down on Bucky’s back with the palm of his hand. He hoped the touch was soothing; it was hard to tell with a strange cat – some of them loved being touched, and others hated it. “Ok Bucky – _Buckeroo_ ,” he said, giving the nape of Bucky’s furry neck a gentle scratch. “We’re not doing this because we’re assholes or because we want to torment you. We’re trying to give you a pain pill for your leg, ok, buddy? Honest, we’re not going to hurt you. We just don’t want to see you suffering.”

Pepper smiled softly. “That’s right. We want you comfortable – not in pain.”

Bucky tensed and then let out a huffed breath. He turned his head under Tony’s hand and looked up. His eyes were narrowed, his expression grumpy. He opened his mouth.

Pepper moved fast. She slipped the pill into Bucky’s mouth, but before she could close his mouth for him, she found him swallowing the pill of his own accord.

Tony and Pepper stared in confusion down at the cat.

“Did he just take that on his own?” Tony asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“It kind of _looked_ like he did,” Pepper said. “But that can’t be right.”

“He did take it, didn’t he, Jarvis?” Tony felt along the sides of Bucky’s furry face, looking for signs of the pill, but couldn’t find anything more suspicious than a lump of moss tangled in the cat’s fur. Bucky gave him another warning nip, but didn’t try to get away from the manhandling.

“I believe the pill has been swallowed, sir,” Jarvis said. “My sensors are not picking it up anywhere in the room.”

“Huh,” Tony said, reaching for the Elizabethan collar. “I’ll be damned. I guess Captain America trained his cat pretty well.”

Bucky swatted the Elizabethan collar out of Tony’s hand.

“Or not,” Pepper said. She stood up and dusted her knees off and handed Tony the Elizabethan collar. Despite not having really touched Bucky, she was covered in cat hair. “Well, I’m going to head to bed and get some sleep,” she said.

Tony scowled. “So you’re leaving me _alone_?”

Pepper patted Tony’s head kindly. “Your words make me think you’re complaining, but I know in your heart you’re overjoyed.”

Tony snorted as he fastened the Elizabethan collar back around Bucky’s neck and stood up, mindful of Bucky’s tail and injured leg. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. Abandon me.” He stepped around Bucky, and gave Pepper a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for coming with me today,” he said, softly. He strode into the kitchen. “I don’t know if I could have done that without you being there.”

“You would be been fine,” Pepper said. She smiled tiredly down at Bucky. “Good night Mr. Barnes,” she said. “Don’t keep Tony up too late. He’s got to go to get up early so we can give you your next pain pill, and then he’s got lots and lots of work to catch up on.” She bent down and held her hand out. Bucky turned his face away from her. She stroked the top of his head. “You two behave yourselves.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said. “Good night, Pep.”

Pepper headed off down the hall to the guest room.

Tony set a silver cat food bowl out on the counter and picked up the first container of gourmet mushy food he found. It was some kind of fancy mixture of chicken, peas and rice – the least offensive of the flavors he had ordered in. Peggs had loved liver and chicken, and he hadn’t been able to bring himself to order any of it; he couldn’t stand the sight or smell of it now. He pulled the pulled the foil lid off of the can and scooped half of the food into the dish, unsure of whether to put more or not. He didn’t know if Bucky was up to eating that much, and he didn’t really want to find vomit on his carpet later in the night if the cat overate.

Bucky meowed plaintively. He dragged his leg across the floor with surprising ease and plopped himself down beside Tony’s foot.

“Here you go,” Tony said, setting the dish in front of Bucky. He watched as Bucky sniffed at the food. It wasn’t like he had cooked it _himself_ , but it still made him anxious watching the cat decide whether he was going to eat or not. He had felt the same way whenever he had put new food down in front of Peggs; she had been a very picky eater.

Bucky started eating. He took one lick at the nearest lump and then practically shoved his face into the bowl, devouring everything he could. Tony was fairly sure the cat was holding his breath by the time the last of the mushy food was gone. Then, while licking the last of the remnants from his whiskers, Bucky froze. His gaze seemed locked on the food dish.

Tony frowned. Was Bucky still hungry? Was that it? He waited for Bucky to move and when he didn’t, picked up the bowl and filled it with another generous scoop of food. “Here you go, Mr. Barnes,” he said, setting the bowl down in front of Bucky. “Eat up.”

Bucky gave his head a shake and looked up at Tony. There was a tiredness to him now, something that hadn’t been there before. He ambled over to Tony’s foot and leaned against it with a soft sigh.

Tony knelt down and gave Bucky’s back a pat. “Ok,” he said. “You don’t need to eat anymore – I’ll just leave it there in case you get hungry later.” He ran his hand along Bucky’s back, moving slowly so he could feel his way down to the base of Bucky’s tail. There weren’t any stitches on Bucky’s back, but there were a few healed-over scabs; he didn’t like that he could feel Bucky’s spine so easily. He wondered how Bucky had ended up in such bad condition. This was Captain America’s cat, after all – Steve Roger’s cat. Steve wasn’t the kind of guy who forgot to feed animals; Steve was responsible, and kind, not a forgetful jackass.

Bucky started shivering. He leaned closer to Tony’s leg, likely trying to leech warmth.

Tony sighed. “Jarvis, turn the heat up a little,” he said. He scooped Bucky up and carried him over to the couch, cradling the cat against him so the little guy’s leg wouldn’t smack anything. He sat down and set Bucky on his stomach.

Bucky did not look impressed, but the new location didn’t seem to have made him angry. The cat let out a huffed sigh and rested his chin on Tony’s chest, burying his nose in Tony’s shirt. Tony peered down at the cat, amused by Bucky’s apparent exhaustion. He hadn’t expected the cat to be friendly, but it wasn’t like the little guy had much of a choice at the moment – Bucky was kind of trapped with him, after all. Playing nice was probably a good strategy for a cat with a strange new human.

“Jarvis?” Tony murmured, carding his fingers through the fur on Bucky’s back. “Do me a favor. Pull up my designs for prosthetics and see if we can get something started – something small. I don’t want to make Mr. Barnes into robo-kitty or anything. Start with something basic. Wheels? A Pegleg? Something like that.”

“I have created a new folder on your private server for this project, sir. Do you wish to name it?” Jarvis asked.

“Call it pegleg for now,” Tony said. He laughed when Bucky looked up and seemed to scowl at him, as though he was offended by the name. “Don’t tell Pepper I’m working, alright, J? The last thing I need is her coming out here and yelling at me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” Jarvis said.

“Turn the television on, will you? Pep told me no Extremis – I guess I should try and at least follow _one_ of her orders,” Tony said. He shifted against the couch and looked around for the blanket he always had stashed down behind the back cushion. With a little wiggling and an arm wrapped around Bucky to keep him from slipping, he managed to get the blanket out and over them both. He kept the blanket from covering Bucky completely. There was nothing worse than breathing hot, stuffy, blanket air, and then Bucky’s tiny kitty nose would likely get all dried out; that wouldn’t be fun for him.

Bucky let out a soft sigh and buried his nose in Tony’s shirt again. His tail thumped against Tony’s leg once and then curled around his body, tucking itself neatly under his cast.

 

When midnight hit, Tony carried a dozing Bucky into his bedroom. He had planned on leaving the cat sleeping on the couch, but one look at Bucky’s leg had made it clear that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea. The thought of the little guy crashing off the side of the couch in the middle of the night made him cringe. He hadn’t intended to bring a cat into his bedroom again, but there wasn’t a better place to keep Bucky. He set the cat down in the middle of his bed and went back out into the hallway to retrieve the litterbox Happy had set up; it would be better to leave it in the bathroom where Bucky could find it easily. He did not want to accidentally step in cat pee. Once in his lifetime had been more than enough.

Bucky lifted his head and stared lazily at Tony. The cat looked stoned out of his mind; he rolled slightly, curling into the plush comforter and let out a long yawn, his tail flopping beside him.

“Ok,” Tony said, clearing his throat. “Here are the ground rules for sleeping in my bedroom, buddy.”

Bucky closed his eyes and let out a loud snort.

“Rule number one – no drooling on my pillows,” Tony said as he carried the litterbox into the bathroom. He returned and picked Bucky up, carrying him into the bathroom as well.

Bucky stiffened in Tony’s hands when he caught sight of the bright lights and shower. He let out a panicked hiss and clawed at Tony’s arm. Startled, Tony nearly dropped him.

“Damn it,” Tony said, setting Bucky down in the centre of the litter box. “This is where you pee and poop. There will be no pooping or peeing elsewhere, understood?”

Bucky tipped over, sinking in the litter. He turned and glowered up at Tony.

“Don’t give me that look,” Tony said, his hands dropping to his hips. “Unless you know how to work a toilet, you’re going to have to do your business in the litter box like all the other kitties.” He gave Bucky a few minutes to sniff at the litter and then picked him up, returning the cat to his bed.

Bucky curled up in a ball again and returned to glaring at Tony with his nose tucked into the blankets.

“Rule number two,” Tony said, pulling open his dresser. He pulled out a ratty looking old t-shirt with a panda on it and set it down on the pillow beside the one he normally slept on. “You can sleep on the blankets, the sheets or the shirt. I don’t want any hair in my pillows. It’s hell picking it out of my beard in the morning.”

Bucky closed his eyes.

Tony scowled, and took in a sharp breath through his nose. “You’re not even _listening_ to me, are you?”

Bucky let out a long, jaw-cracking, yawn.

“Fine. Be that way,” Tony muttered. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the floor; his pants followed, and so did his socks.

Bucky’s eyes snapped open at the sound of clothing hitting the floor. His eyes widened when he got a good look at Tony.

“What?” Tony grumbled. “Are you seeing this Jarvis? Captain America taught his cat to be _disapproving_. Mr. Barnes _disapproves_ of my underwear. You know, I shouldn’t be surprised – Steve’s always seemed like an old fashioned guy. He probably doesn’t even know what bikini briefs _are_. I bet all of his underwear is _horrible_ and in varying shades of off-white.” He shook his head sadly at the thought. A man built like Steve shouldn’t be wearing crappy underwear. Not that he should be thinking about Steve in his underwear.

“I will have to take your word for it, sir,” Jarvis said with a sigh. “Shall I add this as a note to Mr. Barnes file? Or would you prefer to leave this matter private?”

“Keep it private,” Tony said with a yawn. He rubbed at his eyes. God, he felt completely drained; he wanted nothing more than to curl up in a little ball and to sleep for a week. “If you have a problem with my undies, or my junk, you’ll have to learn how to speak and say it, Mr. Barnes. You can give me all the funny looks you want, pal, but until you can tell me in people words, I’m going to walk around my room in my underwear if I want to.”

“I’m sure he understands _completely_ , sir,” Jarvis said.

“You’re right. I’m betting he’s had this conversation already,” Tony said. He sauntered over to his bed, clad in nothing but his ruby red bikini briefs. He pulled back the blankets, scratching idly at the arc reactor’s casing, grumbled about Bucky being in the middle of the bed still and tried to make himself comfortable in the space he could find. It had been a long day, and he was ready to crash – if only Bucky would move out of the way! “Bucky,” Tony whined, “ _ move your hairy ass _ !”

Bucky stood up unhurriedly, balanced precariously on the blankets. He turned, navigating his way around Tony’s body as though he was afraid to touch it even with the blankets in the way. He plopped himself down on the shirt by Tony’s head and curled up again, his nose disappearing into the neckline of the shirt. 

“You can shut the lights off now Jarvis,” Tony mumbled. He rolled onto his side and stroked a line down Bucky’s nose, smiling softly. “Sleep tight, buddy.”

The lights dimmed and then shut off.

Bucky’s eyes glowed eerily in the dark; he let out a long, suffering, sigh and nudged Tony’s hand twice as though seeking to dislodge it before tilting his head towards the shirt and closing his eyes again with a snort.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's day off was both relaxing and tiring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you spot anything funky! : )

Tony woke to panicked mewling and the unaltered stench of cat breath. He blinked away sleep as Jarvis brought up the lights, his vision adjusting in time for him to get a paw to the side of his face. Gasping, he looked around. 

Bucky was sitting on Tony’s chest, his belly squashed against the Arc Reactor. The cat’s pupils were massive, and his ears were pressed flat against his head; he let loose a string of yowls and whimpers and pawed at Tony’s cheek with a bit less force than the first time, refusing to be ignored. 

Tony sat up slowly, giving his head a shake as Bucky slid down his chest and landed in his lap. “Ok, ok. I’m up,” he said, his voice gravely. He redirected Bucky’s next hit with his hand. “What’s wrong buddy? Jarvis? A little help?”

“I believe Mr. Barnes wishes to use the litterbox, sir. I was just about to wake you,” Jarvis said. “He has attempted to get down from the edge of the bed several times already, but was unable to make himself jump. He seems frightened of the fall.”

Tony peeled his blankets back with reluctance and scooped Bucky up, tucking the yowling cat against his chest to keep from losing a nipple to the cat’s sharp teeth. He padded his way into the bathroom, not wanting to dawdle, and set Bucky down in the litter box. He put his hands on his hips and loomed over the box. “Ok,” he said. “Go _pee pee_.”

Bucky hissed and slashed the air in Tony’s direction, his claws out; the effect was less than threatening, considering his one armed slash simply toppled him over onto his side.

Tony put his hands up. “Ok, ok. I’ll give you some peace – sheesh,” he muttered. He stalked back into his bedroom and collapsed onto his bed with a yawn. He’d never had a cat chase _him_ out of the bathroom before. Peggs hadn’t seemed to care who saw her go to the bathroom; mind you, she had been old, surly and had no shame. She would have peed in her litterbox if it was in the middle of a crowded room. Hell, she had enjoyed walking in on _him_ in the bathroom all the damn time. He hadn’t been able to take a crap in peace for _years_ because she would always bang at the door until he opened it.

Bucky was a weird cat. Maybe Steve had taught him how to be polite. Was that even possible? Could you teach a cat not to go to the bathroom in front of people? He had never really thought about it before – there were cats who knew how to both use and flush a toilet, but that was something people generally taught their cats when they were young, not when they were old. Teaching an animal to be polite was probably impossible – animals were animals. They did what they did whenever they wanted; they weren’t people who could think and plan things through. Some cats washed their feet on the dining room table – some pressed their crusty buttholes against people’s legs when they were sitting in said person’s lap. It was a fact of life. Besides, that kind of thing would take years of training if it was possible and he wasn’t so sure he could see Steve being that strict with a cat; Steve didn’t seem like the kind of guy who ordered small furry animals around. People –yes. Animals? No. He had seen Steve get jumped on by an overexcited golden retriever once; the poor guy hadn’t been able to tell the dog to stop it even though he should have, and his Captain America uniform had ended up splattered with mud and grass by the time the dog’s owner had had enough hand shaking and hugging to pay attention to the dog again.

Bucky let out a loud meow from the bathroom.

Weary, wanting nothing more than to drop back to sleep, Tony pulled himself upright and zombie-walked into the bathroom. He wondered, his mind still clouded with sleep, if he was going to need to go get a plastic bag from the kitchen. Smelly cat poop was no laughing matter, after all.

He was in luck.

Bucky glared mournfully up at Tony from the centre of the litterbox. The cat had tried to bury his pee, but with his back leg as damaged as it was, and his front leg missing, he hadn’t managed to do much more than lightly sprinkle sand on the darkened patch of litter. Bucky seemed to be challenging Tony to say something, as though he expected to be ridiculed or taunted for what he had done.

Tony picked Bucky up, dusted the little guy’s feet off so litter wouldn’t come with them and carried Bucky back to bed. “Ok, honey,” he mumbled, setting Bucky down. “Sleepy time.” He crawled under the covers and fell asleep as Bucky nervously circled the shirt on the pillow beside him.

 

Tony woke with an ungodly snort to find Pepper perched on the side of his bed, her coppery hair mussed with sleep. She was wearing a long, baggy, pink t-shirt that came down to her knees and a pair of grey sleep shorts; her face was pale in the dim light, and her eyes had dark purple bags underneath them. She was trying to stealthily pet Bucky, but the cat did not seem to appreciate the unsolicited attention. Bucky had backed himself into Tony’s armpit and looked close to biting her.

“Morning, Pep,” Tony croaked. He reached out and lazily patted Bucky on the head until the cat stopped outright glaring at Pepper. “Morning Mr. Barnes.”

“That’s so weirdly _formal_ for a cat,” Pepper mused.

Tony ruffled the fur between Bucky’s ears. “He doesn’t seem to mind.”

Pepper smiled and reached out to give Bucky’s neck a scratch; she didn’t get even _remotely_ close to the cat before he tried to nip her. She put her hands in her lap with a scowl. “I wonder if Steve calls him that.”

“Who knows,” Tony grumbled, dropping his hand onto Bucky’s furry side. “Did he call?”

“Who?” Pepper said with a yawn. “Steve? No. I don’t think he’s called in yet. Jarvis? Do you know if Steve called?”

“Captain Rogers has not called,” Jarvis said. “I took the liberty of checking his phone records, and he doesn’t appear to have called anyone since he dropped Mr. Barnes off with you, sir. Perhaps his mission requires radio silence?”

“Great,” Tony said. He rolled over and tried to bury his head under his pillow, but Bucky’s weight kept it firmly pinned down. “Wake me up later when something interesting happens.”

“Sadly, that’s not going to happen,” Pepper said, prodding Tony in the shoulder. “You need to get up now. The lovely Mr. Bitey-pants needs his pain pill, remember?”

Tony groaned. There was no way he could keep sleeping now even though he wanted to spend the next few hours snoring. He would have to get up. He hated when he couldn’t wiggle his way out of choices.

“Do you want me to carry him into the living room?” Pepper asked, her gaze locking on Bucky.

“Nah,” Tony said. He stretched as he crawled out of bed, listening to his bones crack. God, he felt old today. He plucked Bucky from the pillows and hugged him against his chest so the cat’s cast wouldn’t dangle. “I’ve got him. Lead the way and let’s pill him.”

Pepper stretched out as she walked, curling daintily on the tips of her toes. “I suppose I can help you with that,” she said.

Tony chuckled and gave Bucky’s head a loud, obnoxious, kiss. “Hold on, buddy. We’ll make your owies go away in just a second.”

Pepper smiled softly. She ran her fingers through Tony’s hair as she moved in a circle around him. “You’re such a softie, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony grumbled.

They settled on their knees in the living room with Bucky trapped between them, positioned the same way as the night before. Tony didn’t expect this pilling to go as easily, but Bucky surprised them again by opening his mouth and allowing them to slip the pill in without protest. The cat looked a little disgruntled when they were done, but overall, he didn’t seem to really care.

Tony let Bucky slip away once he was sure the pill was gone and stood up. He started for the kitchen and paused only when he realized that Pepper was watching him.

“What?” Tony asked. He cocked a hip, amused, and remembered belatedly that he hadn’t actually gotten dressed before leaving his bedroom.

“You’re wearing the underwear I bought you for your last big date – you know, the one you missed because you had an Avengers gig to go to instead,” Pepper said, smirking as she stood up. She snapped the waistband of his briefs as she passed him, her eyes twinkling and opened up the fridge. She took out the can of cat food that Tony had opened the night before and set it on the counter before going back to rummaging around amidst the rest of the food in Tony’s fridge. She pulled out the jam, margarine and peanut butter with a triumphant grunt.

“They were too pretty to leave in their drawer. I like them,” Tony said, rubbing at his waist. He padded through the kitchen and hip bumped Pepper. “I wear them all the time,” he said. “They work pretty well with the suit.”

Pepper lifted her head, her eyebrow cocked and leaned against the fridge door. “You wear them in the suit?”

“Going commando isn’t exactly an option, even with the undersuit,” Tony said with a shrug. He pulled Bucky’s dish from the drying rack and scooped out a blob of mushy food, holding his breath so he wouldn’t have to smell it. He set it down on the floor and gave it a tap so Bucky would know where it was. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Bucky ambling over towards them like a furry torpedo.

“There are way too many squishy bits of me and way too many metal pinch points in the suit,” Tony said. He watched as Bucky gave the food a tentative sniff and began eating, his elbow on the counter and his chin in his palm, then put the cat food away, satisfied that his offering had been accepted.

“I see,” Pepper drawled. “I learn something new about the Iron Man suit every day.” She carried everything she had pulled from the fridge over to the kitchen table and went back to the toaster, taking a bag of thickly sliced multi-grain bread from its spot on the counter between a bag of plain white bread and a bag of rye bread. “I’m going to assume you want toast with your coffee,” she said, dryly, her eyes sparkling with glee. She loaded the four slot toaster with bread without waiting for his response. After a second of staring sleepily into the toaster, she yawned into her arm with a muttered curse.

“Late night?” Tony asked, coyly. He batted his eyelashes at her when she mimed throwing a slice of bread at his head and turned his attention to the coffee pot. It was already percolating, to his delight. He pulled two mugs from the cupboard, making sure he had Pepper’s favourite; she had stayed over so often the past few years, it had a permanent place in his cupboard. He wondered what it would have been like if they had tried dating. Would her things still be scattered around his house even after he had inevitably messed everything up between them? She had a drawer in the guest room she always stayed in that was full of her clothing, and the bathroom attached to that room was stocked with cosmetics, her shampoo and various other trinkets she had picked up over the years. It would be strange to walk into that bathroom and see it empty.

“Oh, you know how it is,” Pepper said, her eyes half closed. “I think we’re both a little too used to staying up all night.” She jumped when the toaster popped. Sighing, she pulled their toast out and divided the slices equally between two plates.

Tony filled their mugs with coffee, cream and sugar.

Pepper brushed her bangs back from her forehead. “I think I’m going to need at least three cups before I’m ready to work today.”

“I know the feeling,” Tony said with a sigh.

They sat down at the table and buttered their toast, watching idly as Bucky trotted off into the living room, dragging his cast-clad leg behind him.

Tony leaned around the edge of the table and saw that Bucky’s food bowl was licked clean. Apparently Steve’s cat was a morning person. He wasn’t even remotely surprised. “So,” he said as he sat up straighter in his chair. He bit into his buttery toast. “What are the plans for today?”

“Well,” Pepper said, smearing jam on her toast, “I’m going to have to head in to work.”

“Poor Pep,” Tony said through a mouthful of toast.

Pepper shrugged. “It’s not like I’m not there every _other_ day,” she said, muffling a yawn with her arm. “I’d rather stay here and play with Mr. Barnes, but not _all_ of us get to have play-days this week.”

“Sad, but true,” Tony mumbled. He sipped at his coffee, making it last. It wasn’t like he _didn’t_ have work of his own to get cracking on, but at least for a few more minutes he could pretend that this was just a normal day of the week. The schematics for Bucky’s prosthetic were waiting for his approval, and the suit needed a tune-up; there were a thousand and one different things he had to tweak for SI’s R &D department, and the Avengers needed armor upgrades – _all of the avengers needed upgrades_. He had been lucky to get the night off now that he thought about it.

“Sir,” Jarvis said, sounding weary. “Mr. Barnes has decided to hide underneath the couch again.”

“That’s ok,” Tony said, picking up another piece of toast. He smeared this one with jam and peanut butter before taking a bite. “Let the fuzzbutt explore. It’s not like he’s going to disappear with you watching him and that cone stuck around his neck.”

Pepper snorted into her coffee.

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “You alright over there? Coffee is for drinking, not snorting.”

“Says the man who routinely inhales his coffee,” Pepper said with a cough. She wiped her mouth on her hand. “Do me a favor, alright? Send me updates on him during the day so I have something nice to look at.”

“I suppose that’s do-able,” Tony said. He was going to have to start taking pictures of Mr. Barnes for Steve’s sake anyway, so sending Pepper a bunch of those picture wasn’t going to be a lot of extra work; he might as well make a collection of cute pictures for himself too. After all, he was eventually going to have to give Bucky back. Besides – he wasn’t going to let a good cone of shame go to waste. He grinned fiendishly at Pepper. “You might regret that decision though.”

“I’d better not,” Pepper grumbled. “Now, go get dressed before you traumatize that cat any further.” She stuffed the last of her toast into her mouth and picked up her plate, depositing it in the sink. She waved at Tony over her shoulder and left for her room.

 

 

With Pepper gone to work, Tony wasn’t sure what to do with his free time– after, of course, getting dressed in the comfiest clothing he owned. He knew that he couldn’t head down to the workshop with Bucky in the condition he was in; it wouldn’t be fair to the cat considering the little guy still needed help getting into his litterbox and all. He debated on what to do first and decided that it would be simplest to grab a tablet and start working on the couch where he could keep an eye on Bucky while still working in _relative_ comfort.

He went to his bedroom to grab the tablet he had left there the day before and came back to find Bucky’s head sticking out from under the couch again. The cat looked even more morose than the night before when he had _first_ tried that particular hiding spot.

Tony tried valiantly not to snicker. “You ok there, buddy?”

Bucky let out a growl and turned his head away; now all Tony could see was the side of his plastic cone.

“Hey, Jarvis? Where’s the box of cat toys I ordered?” Tony asked, squinting down at Bucky. The cat needed _something_ to do for the next few hours if he was going to work in peace and a boxful of toys would be more than sufficient.

“I believe they are sitting in the closet near the kitchen,” Jarvis said. “Mr. Hogan wasn’t quite sure if they were cat toys or not and he didn’t want to leave them out where someone could accidentally stumble upon them.”

Tony let out a sharp laugh. Leave it to Happy to think his boss was sending him to pick up a box of sex toys.

“I suggested the bedroom at first,” Jarvis said, sounding amused. “Mr. Hogan, however, told me he wasn’t going to go, and I am directly quoting, ‘within ten feet of your bedroom even if I’m being paid’.”

“He’s gone some really weird ideas about me,” Tony said, shaking his head. Sure, he had a reputation for being a sleazy playboy, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who routinely traumatized his employees. Some employees, of course, had had the accidental privilege-slash-horror of seeing him naked, but it wasn’t like he _planned_ for that to happen; sometimes it just _did_. And besides, it was Pepper who had seen him naked most of the time, not Happy. Well, to be fair, Rhodey had seen him naked plenty of times too, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen _Rhodey_ naked before. Things happened while Avenging.

Tony retrieved the box of cat toys from the closet and nearly winded himself while laughing when he realized that Happy had decided to put a blanket over top of the box to shield the contents further. Poor Happy must have thought that someone might see everything through the closet door.

Tony set about tearing the cardboard open while sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room. Inside the box were fifty different kinds of cat toy – all of them custom made. There were chewable stuffies, cat-nip toys, a mixture of both bouncing and noise making balls, two different kinds of dangling fishing rods and a handful of laser pointers in the top layer of the box alone. He didn’t bother digging deeper; the rest, he decided, could wait for later. He pulled out one of each of the toys and distributed them around the room, making sure Bucky could see what he was doing.

Bucky didn’t move. Bucky didn’t even _blink_ at the toys. He stared at Tony, his gaze dead and lifeless and then sneezed, startling Tony so badly he nearly jumped onto the couch behind him.

It was _creepy_ ; Tony had never seen a cat look at him like that before.

“Don’t you want to play with something?” Tony asked, dropping down to his knees. He hesitated, wondering briefly if his face would be in danger of being mauled, and then flattened himself onto the floor. He peered at Bucky. “What’s wrong buddy?”

Bucky continued to stare blankly at Tony; he wiggled his rear end and tucked himself a little deeper under the couch. When Tony reached out to boop him on the nose, Bucky hissed and snapped at Tony’s finger.

Tony yanked his hand back. “I guess last night was a one-off, huh?” he said, bitterly, sitting up. He ran his fingers through his hair. Maybe it would be a good idea to leave Bucky alone. The cat obviously didn’t want to be touched and there was no way in hell Tony was reaching under the couch to pull the furry bastard out – he didn’t want his hand torn off.

Sighing, Tony shuffled across the floor on his knees, crawled up onto the couch and picked up his tablet. It was a good thing he had work to do, or he would have been tempted to keep trying to pestering Bucky until either he or the cat gave up and succumbed to his charms. He searched through a folder filled with draft designs for the latest War Machine iteration. There was plenty of stuff to fiddle with, and with Rhodey heading in for his annual vacation time, it seemed fitting to get cracking on a new War Machine suit.

Ten minutes later, happily working away, Tony was startled from his thoughts by, low, demonic, growling. He looked up from his tablet and saw that Bucky had pulled himself out from under the couch. The cat had wandered over to the hallway that lead towards the private elevator that went directly from the penthouse straight to Tony’s workshop. The automatic door that sealed that corridor off from the rest of the penthouse was apparently doing something pure evil – or maybe it was doing something just plain rude, Tony couldn’t be sure – and Bucky was staring at it as though he wanted to kill it with fire.

“Jarvis?” Tony said, frowning. “Are you seeing this?”

“I am indeed, sir,” Jarvis said with a sigh.

Bucky approached the automatic doors, plodding along. His eyes were narrowed, his teeth bared. He yowled when the door opened, the sensors catching his approach despite his slow speed. He flew backwards, his hair standing on end. He growled murderously at the door and slashed at it, falling over in the process.

Sighing, Tony set his tablet down. “Mr. Barnes,” he called out from the couch. “It’s ok. The door isn’t going to hurt you.”

When Bucky didn’t stop growling, Tony forced himself to move from his comfortable warm-spot on the couch. He walked slowly, telegraphing his movements so Bucky could see him coming; it didn’t help.

Bucky hissed at Tony and swung himself around to evade capture, moving with the kind of speed that Tony would have expected from and uninjured cat. The cat flew over to the couch and dove beneath it, leaving only his head and the Elizabethan collar in view. He bared his teeth when Tony approached, his ears flattened against his head and let out a loud, low, yowled hiss.

Tony winced. “Jarvis? Let’s start a list of things that bug Mr. Barnes. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not have him crapping his drawers every time the automatic door opens.”

“An excellent idea sir,” Jarvis said.

“Number one,” Tony said, peering down at Bucky. “No opening _any_ automatic door unless Mr. Barnes is far away from it.”

“Noted, sir,” Jarvis said. “Shall I leave the list open for editing?”

Tony threw himself down onto the couch beside his tablet, reclaiming his warm-spot. “I think that’s a good idea.” He glanced down at his tablet, gnawing on the end of his thumb.

Why had Bucky gone towards the automatic door in the first place? It hadn’t been moving, and while the cat had been free to explore, the door hadn’t moved an inch since Bucky’s arrival. Had Bucky known it was a door? Was that possible? If anything, the cat should have thought the door was nothing more than a _wall_. Something must have drawn Bucky over – _wait_. Cats had excellent hearing. Could that be it? Had Bucky heard something and gone over to investigate? Tony glanced over at the automatic door and tuned into it with Extremis. The buzz of electricity in his ears was irritating, but tolerable. To a cat, the sound would have been an annoyance and definitely an attractant. He powered the door down with Extremis and then shut off Extremis’ feeds so he wouldn’t be tempted to use them while he worked. Hopefully, this would do the trick.

“Ok. The door is now powered down and locked until further notice. Is Mr. Barnes looking any better?” Tony asked.

Bucky sniffed the air, his body pointed towards the automatic door. He put his head down on his front paw; his gaze returned to that dead-eyed stare he seemed to enjoy so much.

“I believe Mr. Barnes has relaxed,” Jarvis said.

Bucky tensed and let out a low popping-hiss.

“Ok – so, with _that_ lovely sound in mind – rule number two. I’m thinking your voice is freaking him out. Let’s keep the talking to a minimum unless there’s more than one person in the room,” Tony said. Having Jarvis running on silent was probably going to make things more difficult considering he couldn’t use Extremis either, but it would be worth it if Bucky calmed down again.

“Noted, sir,” Jarvis said. “I will engage the new protocol on your signal.”

“Put on some music, for me. Nothing obnoxious – just something loud enough to drown out the appliances if they start humming any louder than usual. If he’s getting all antsy over the quiet, I’m betting the humming is going to drive him up the wall,” Tony said.

“Shall I assume your usual music is out of the question sir?” Jarvis asked.

“Yeah, I’m thinking his kitty-ears aren’t going to appreciate Metallica,” Tony said. He chuckled and pulled up a playlist he had made for Pepper; maybe the cat would appreciate some Gotye. It was worth a shot.

 

 

Tony was just finishing up the first set of updates for War Machine’s thrusters when he felt something tugging on his pant leg. He looked down and found that Bucky had sunk his sharp kitty teeth into the leg of his sweatpants.

“Ok,” Tony said. “Either you don’t like those pants, or you want something. Am I right?”

Bucky yowled and tugged on Tony’s pant leg again.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Tony asked. He smiled when Bucky didn’t flinch and run away from him. Now he was pretty damn sure the cat wanted something from him – the little guy seemed cunning that way. It wouldn’t have surprised him if Steve Roger’s cat was a mini-tactician. He had a feeling that if he ignored Bucky for too long, he would end up without his pants. “Are you ok?” he asked. When Bucky meowed in response, Tony scooted forwards onto the edge of the couch. He calculated the risk, deemed a bloody hand worth it, and picked Bucky up, settling the cat in his lap.

Bucky let out a huffed breath and pushed his face into Tony’s belly; the Elizabethan collar cut into Tony’s stomach fat and made him wince.

“Is this your way of telling me to take the collar off?” Tony asked.

Bucky rammed the collar into Tony’s stomach again.

“Ok, ok,” Tony said. He slipped the plastic collar open, keeping an eye on Bucky so he wouldn’t move and accidentally hurt himself and pulled it off.

Bucky gave his head a shake and hissed at the collar.

“I know,” Tony said, sympathetically. “It’s an evil collar.” He tossed the Elizabethan collar away with a flourish. “Don’t tell Pepper,” he said. He carded his fingers through the tangled fur on the back of Bucky’s neck and wondered if he would be allowed to comb them out. When Bucky nipped at his fingers, he decided to not press his luck. He picked up his tablet and found it nearly pushed out of his hands as Bucky rammed his head into his stomach again.

Bucky let out a throaty yowl.

“What now?” Tony groused.

Bucky turned in a lazy circle on Tony’s lap and settled with his chin on Tony’s belly. He glared up at Tony; he dug his front paw’s claws into the waistband of Tony’s sweatpants.

Tony scowled. “Hey,” he said, gently lifting Bucky’s back foot where it had tried to dig its way into his thigh. “No stabbing the goods, fluffbutt.”

Bucky closed his eyes and sighed wearily again. He shifted until he had his cast-clad leg tucked neatly against Tony’s thigh and promptly fell asleep.

“Really?” Tony said. “ _That’s_ what it takes for you to go to sleep? Five seconds with a warm belly?” He turned his attention back to his tablet, and idly stroked Bucky’s head, muttering code corrections for War Machine’s HUD to himself under his breath while singing along with Gotye; the tablet – with a little help from Jarvis – recorded everything he said, minus the song lyrics.

When Tony looked up again, it was noon, and his stomach and Bucky’s were growling with the kind of ferocity Tony normally associated with being hungry for days. He yawned and rubbed his palm over Bucky’s back. “Alright, buddy. I think it’s time we took a break. How about we get some nummies?” he said.

Bucky didn’t answer, but he did look up at Tony expectantly.

“Jarvis? Order in some food – something cat friendly so if Mr. Barnes wants a taste he won’t fry his tiny tastebuds,” Tony said, yawning into his arm. He blinked back sleep. Somehow, it felt like had pulled an all-nighter, even though he had only been working for a few hours.

“Will sandwiches be acceptable sir?” Jarvis asked. “Chicken salad, perhaps?”

Tony’s stomach let loose a string of grumbles. “My stomach says yes,” he said. He rubbed gently at Bucky’s ears and found what must have been an itchy spot. Bucky’s toes on his good leg curled into Tony’s shirt, digging in. His back feet wiggled with every ear scratch; his front foot’s claws did the same thing. To Tony’s surprise, Bucky started _purring_. It was a soft sound, barely audible; Tony could feel it in his chest.

Eventually, the itch seemed to pass, and Bucky’s toes and claws pulled out of Tony’s shirt one at a time. The purr vanished and the surly expression returned to Bucky’s face. Tony shifted Bucky’s weight so the cat wasn’t pressing so close to the Arc Reactor’s casing. His body had adapted to the reactor because of Extremis, but the reactor’s casing still offered more than a few problems. It was far too easy to catch things on the lip of it, and he had a feeling that kitty-claws would find it easy to hang off of. He rubbed his hand over Bucky’s shaved belly, avoiding the cat’s stitches, trying to distract the cat.

Bucky began to shiver; the purr returned.

“Hey, Jarvis, tell Happy to go to the kids clothing section in some department store – I don’t care where he goes, wherever he wants to head is fine with me – just get him to pick out a shirt that would fit a toddler. Let’s stick Mr. Barnes in something a little warmer so his tum-tum isn’t cold,” Tony murmured.

“Do you have any specifications for colour or brand sir?” Jarvis asked. There was a hint of amusement in the AI’s voice, as though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of Tony’s request.

“Anything’s fine as long as it’s not massive. I mean, Mr. Barnes here is fucking _huge_ and all but he’s not bigger than a toddler,” Tony said. When Bucky glared at him, Tony chuckled and stroked the cat’s head again. “Hey, don’t give me that look. I’m doing us both a favor – you’re not going to have a cold belly, and I’m going to keep my balls when Pepper finds out I took off your cone of shame. It’s a win-win situation.”

“I believe Ms. Potts would appreciate a picture once the shirt has arrived,” Jarvis said. “Perhaps that might stall her wrath.”

“Exactly,” Tony said, snapping his fingers. “You’re a _genius_ , Jarvis. We’ll bribe her with cute cat pictures.”

Jarvis sighed. “Very good, sir.”

Tony chuckled and began playing with the tufts of fur on Bucky’s cheeks; he was surprised he got away with it. “This is going to work out so well,” he said.

Bucky sank his teeth slightly into Tony’s fingers and growled.

Tony scowled at the cat. “You’re so grumpy and _mean_ ,” he said.

Bucky snorted and closed his eyes; Tony’s fingers remained trapped in his mouth.

 

 

“Your lunch has arrived, sir,” Jarvis said. “Mr. Hogan will be bringing it up in a moment.”

Tony snorted and came back to consciousness with a jerk. He hadn’t realized he had been asleep. Bucky opened one eye and then let out a growl as he was shifted against Tony’s chest and picked up.

Tony stood slowly, stretching his sore body one limb at a time. He shuffled towards the kitchen with Bucky tucked against his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, an arm wrapped lazily around the cat’s cast-clad leg. He set Bucky down on the tabletop, feeling only moderately guilty that he was letting an animal sit where people ate, and then returned to the couch to get his tablet.

The elevator dinged cheerfully.

Happy strode into the penthouse with a lumpy plastic bag in one hand and a paper bag in the other. He set both bags down on the table with a flourish, as though he had pulled them from the ether and sat down in the chair across from Bucky. “I managed to find a few shirts you might like. I’m stealing some of your food as punishment for you sending me into the hellish nightmare that is the children’s department, by the way,” he said, opening up the paper bag. He pulled out two Styrofoam containers and set them out, keeping one eye on Bucky, as though he expected to be attacked at any moment.

Tony pulled out a chair and sat down. He set his tablet beside Bucky’s back end. “Alright,” he said, giving Bucky his sternest look. “Here’s the deal Buckeroo. You get to eat as much chicken salad as you want as long as you behave and don’t try to murder anyone’s hands or fingers while you’re on the table.”

Bucky scowled at Tony and rested his head on his paw. He flicked his tail, nearly tipping over the plastic bag.

“I guess he wants to see his new shirts,” Happy said.

“He can’t _wait_ to see them, I bet,” Tony said with a grunt. He set his fork down and wiggled his fingers before attacking the plastic bag, pulling out three different shirts. This wasn’t exactly what he had expected when he had told Happy to go find some toddler-sized shirts, but they would do. The first shirt had a classic Captain America uniform on the front of it; the second had a half-assed version of the Iron Man chestplate on it; the third had the word Grumpy written across the chest in bolded, cursive, letters.

“They were all on sale,” Happy explained with a shrug. He pulled a sandwich out and started eating. “I think that last one’s supposed to be some kind of Disney thing without the whole Disney licencing part. Seven Dwarves and all that crap.”

Tony snorted and looked down at Bucky. “If he keeps glaring at me, that’ll be the shirt he gets to wear for the rest of the day.” He picked up the Captain America shirt and held it up against Bucky, gauging the size. It would fit, as would the rest of what Happy had picked out. He rubbed his hands together in glee and put the shirts back in their bag. “We’ll dress you up once you’re finished eating. I don’t want you getting crap all over everything before we can take our cute pictures,” he told the cat.

“He’s a messy eater?” Happy asked through a mouthful of food.

“He’s been pretty clean so far, but I’d rather not risk having to do laundry,” Tony said. He unwrapped a sandwich and put a blob of chicken on his hand. He held it under Bucky’s nose and gave it a tentative jiggle. “Chicken?”

Bucky sniffed at the blob of chicken, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. After a few seconds on deliberation, he began to lick at Tony’s hand, picking the chicken up with his teeth.

“Shouldn’t you feed him cat food or something?” Happy asked.

“I’m not going to give him the entire _sandwich_ ,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “Relax, Hap. I’ll give him his mushy stuff later. I don’t know about you, but the smell of that crap turns my stomach – I’d rather not smell that while I’m eating.”

“Fair enough, but Pep’s going to give you shit if he starts puking all over the place,” Happy said, cheerfully.

“He’s not going to puke everywhere,” Tony grumbled. He looked down at Bucky, who was still holding the piece of chicken in his mouth. “You’d _better_ _not_ puke everywhere.”

Bucky ate his piece of chicken and lowered his chin back onto his paw. His eyes were locked on Tony’s sandwich.

“Fine,” Tony said, standing up. He put his sandwich down and stalked over to the fridge. “You know, you two are so _pushy_. You’d think you guys were the billionaire geniuses.”

“Sure, Boss,” Happy said. “Get me a can of coke, will ya?”

Tony pulled open the fridge. “Do I even _have_ pop in here?” he said, sticking his head inside. “I thought Natasha did a fridge purge after Barton got at it. He kept sticking the cans to the ceiling.” He took out Bucky’s mushy food, setting it on the counter behind him, and continued to burrow into the fridge, searching with growing exasperation. His fridge was big enough for him to crawl into, if he had wanted to; he could have curled up in here and still have enough room for a friend to sit with him.

“Boss,” Happy mumbled, his mouth full of food. “Mr. Barnes is eating your sandwich.”

“So stop him,” Tony said, nearly braining himself on the shelf above him. He plucked a can of coke from behind a massive plastic jar of mayonnaise and set it on the counter, closing the fridge door with his knee. He turned around, focusing on the counter and Bucky’s food, and heard Happy making shooing noises. He snickered. Bucky did not seem like the kind of cat who _shooed_. Knowing he had little time before his entire sandwich was licked clean of chicken, he scooped mushy food onto a plate, squished it up with a fork and darted for the kitchen table.

Bucky glowered as Tony reclaimed his sandwich; he cheered up when the plate of mush food was held over his head and placed on the opposite side of the table. Struggling upright, the cat hobbled over to his dish and started eating.

Tony picked up his sandwich and contemplated which side would be best to start in on. A little cat spit wouldn’t be horrible but he didn’t really like mushy bread. “Jarvis?” he said. “Which side was Mr. Barnes eating from?”

“Mr. Barnes seemed to favor the right-hand corner,” Jarvis said.

“Oh good,” Tony said. He tore off the right hand corner and smiled fondly. “I forgot how much of a pain in the ass it is to eat with a cat in the house.”

Happy took another bite of his sandwich and shrugged. “It’s a hell of a lot safer than eating with my dog,” he said. “You can’t stop that bozo from eating _anything_. If it had been him on the table, you wouldn’t have a crumb left.”

Tony laughed. “You know, you’re right.” He patted Bucky’s lower back; Bucky’s back end went upright as he stood on shaky legs. Bucky turned and stared at Tony in horror, apparently not having intended to stand.

“I’d much rather have this guy around than your dog. At least I know he’s not going to eat his way through a plastic bag or something,” Tony said.

Bucky glared at Tony before sitting down and going back to his food.

“That’s true,” Happy mused. “I’m just glad I don’t have to pick plastic out of his poop anymore. Stupid dog and his stupid bottomless pit stomach.”

“Ugh,” Tony said, wrinkling his nose. “Don’t remind me. It was bad enough hearing it the first time.”

“I’m just glad he passed it without any trouble,” Happy said. “I dunno what I would have done if he hadn’t.”

Tony kept his eyes on his sandwich and focused on chewing. He was glad that Happy hadn’t had to visit the vet that day, but the very thought of it made his stomach churn.

 

Bucky finished his meal in record time; Tony and Happy ate just as quickly, and soon there was nothing to do but squeeze Bucky into a shirt. Tony picked up the grumpy t-shirt and snapped the tags off of it. “What do you say?” he said, looking down at a very unimpressed looking Bucky. “Grumpy? Cap? Or Iron Man?”

Bucky let out a half-hearted hiss.

“What do you think, Hap?” Tony said, holding the shirts up.

Happy squinted at the choices. He pointed at the Captain America shirt, grinning, and wiped a smear of mustard off of his cheek. “I’m thinking that’s the classiest of them,” he said.

“ _Classiest_?” Tony said with a huff. He frowned at Happy. “Classiest? You’re _crazy_ Hap – Iron Man is far classier.”

“You would have picked Cap anyways,” Happy said with a snort.

“That’s not the point,” Tony said, primly. He snapped the tags off the Captain America shirt and gingerly lifted Bucky up so he could get the shirt over him. It wasn’t too tight a fit, and Bucky didn’t really put up all that much of a struggle; the cat seemed more interested in trying to lick the mayonnaise off of Tony’s cheek once he was in range. “There,” Tony said, grinning down at Bucky. “What do you think, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky sneezed.

“What do you think, Jarvis? Should we pose him? Or should we just take a bunch of different pictures and send them out?” Tony asked. He _really_ wanted to see the look on Steve’s face when he saw Bucky in the shirt. Cap Cat would be such a hit. Tony pursed his lips. Steve had a sense of humor – or so he’d been told, but would Steve take this well? Contrary to popular belief, Tony didn’t exactly go around trying to make people angry on purpose – well, at least not _all_ the time.

Bucky shuffled towards the edge of the table with a surly grumble, trying to escape.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tony said, picking the cat up. He cradled Bucky against his chest, holding him close but not too tightly. “It’s ok, buddy. Let’s go sit down, huh? I bet you want to go try out the couch again instead of the countertop. It must be cold on your belly.” He carried Bucky over to the couch and set him down. He noticed a blob of chicken stuck to the stump that had once been Bucky’s foreleg and moved to pick it off. Bucky reacted before Tony could even touch him; he spat at Tony, bared his teeth and let out a loud, high-pitched snarl – one that meant business.

Tony backed off immediately. He hadn’t expected Bucky to react so violently, but then again, he hadn’t touched that particular spot the night before, so there had been no way of knowing. The vet had been lucky she had done her examination when the cat had been sedated, now that he thought about it. “Ok – it’s ok. I won’t touch you there again, alright?” Tony said, trying to reign in his panic.

“What happened?” Happy asked, peering around Tony at Bucky.

“He doesn’t like his stump being touched,” Tony said.

“Maybe you startled the jerk,” Happy said.

“Judging by the look on his face,” Tony said with a sigh, “I think that wasn’t just him being startled.” He kept his hands at his sides and waited patiently for Bucky to settle down again. The cat’s expression glazed over once he realized that Tony wasn’t going to reach for his stump again; he stared at Tony with a dead-eyed stare again and pressed his back up against the back of the couch. Was it possible for a cat to end up with PTSD? Tony recognized that look - he had seen that expression in the mirror after New York. The knowledge made his heart twist painfully in his chest.

“Add that to the list, Jarvis,” Tony said, softly. He reached out and held his hand out for Bucky to sniff. When the cat paid him no notice, he set about posing Bucky a little better so the shirt could be seen without moving the cat too much.

“I have taken pictures from multiple angles,” Jarvis said. “Do you wish to decide which ones to send to Ms. Potts and Captain Rogers?”

Tony rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “You know what,” he said, “Just send out the ones you think are best. If Cap gets his knickers in a twist, he’ll just have to come home and take Mr. Barnes home.”

“Done,” Jarvis said. “Did you wish to send any pictures to Colonel Rhodes?”

Tony smirked. Rhodey was going to squeal so _loud_ when he saw Bucky in his new outfit. Rhodey might be a military man, but that didn’t mean Rhodey didn’t enjoy the cuter things in life. “Oh hell yes,” he said. “Send Rhodey the best pictures you’ve got and make sure you repeat all of the death threats he makes when he sees them.”

 

 

Tony worked into well in the evening, sprawled on the couch with his tablet in hand. The afternoon had been painfully eventful; he now had a lovely list of things to avoid doing in front of Bucky. His big toe was still throbbing from learning the latest rule.

Bucky was nowhere to be seen. After a disastrous trip to the litterbox – a trip that had resulted in Tony building miniature stairs so the cat could do his business without help – he had bolted and run off. For a cat on one of his three good legs, Bucky moved swiftly and with unexpected stealth. Tony was pretty sure the cat was still in the living room _somewhere_ – Bucky was at the very least, still in the penthouse. Jarvis would have alerted him if the cat had gone wandering off onto the balcony, after all. The AI knew better than to allow an unattended animal outside; the last thing either of them wanted was the cat to slip and fall to its death.

When Pepper stepped out of the elevator with take-out ten minutes later, Tony looked up from his tablet at long last. Despite having worked all day, it felt like he had done nothing of value. Sure, he had made at least ten new schematics and countless tweaks to War Machine’s newest iteration, but it still felt like he hadn’t done much.

Pepper set a box of pizza down on the kitchen table. “Don’t get used to this,” she warned, setting her purse and jacket down on the counter. She blew her bangs out from in front of her eyes.

“Comfort pizza?” Tony asked, slinking into the kitchen. He set his tablet down beside the pizza box and grinned. “I _love_ comfort pizza.”

“It’s vegetarian, so don’t get so excited,” Pepper said. She collapsed into her chair. “ _I swear_. Today was unending.”

“And yet here we are at the end of the day,” Tony said. He pulled a slice of pizza free from its cheese-sticky slot amidst its pizza-brethren and took a bite, moaning at the cheesy goodness. Even though there was a veritable salad mixed in with the cheese, it was good. He was about to take another bite when Bucky came flying out of nowhere, scaring the hell out of him; the cat jumped up, landing on Tony’s lap with a wobble, and nearly went ass-over-teakettle when the extra weight of his cast caught up with him. Tony steadied the cat his pizza-free hand. “Sweet fucking _shit_ cat – what the hell were you thinking?”

Pepper smiled tiredly. “I see your new friend still likes you,” she said.

Tony glanced down at Bucky. A string of cheese dropped from his slice of pizza into Bucky’s open mouth; the cat gobbled it up. Tony sighed. “I’m starting to think he’s just using me for more than just my good looks,” he said.

“That’s cats for you,” Pepper said, helping herself to a slice of pizza. “Always in it for the free food and good looking older men.”

Tony grinned. “Did you hear that?” he said. He looked down at Bucky, who was trying to nonchalantly get at the rest of the slice of pizza without outright sinking his teeth into it. “She thinks I’m a good looking older man.”

Pepper smacked Tony’s shoulder. “I didn’t say that – I said the _cat_ thinks you’re a good looking older man. Learn to listen,” she grumbled.

“Is Pepper right?” Tony said, pulling some more cheese off of his pizza. He fed it to Bucky in little pieces so the cat wouldn’t choke. “Am I handsome older man? Am I?”

Bucky took the last of the cheese from Tony’s hand and plopped himself down, smooshing his body against Tony’s belly. He let out a burp and turned his dead-eyed stare at Pepper, resting his chin on Tony’s wrist, pinning it in place.

“Never mind. I don’t think he cares,” Tony said. He took a bite out of his pizza with his free hand. “So – did you like the pictures?”

“They were adorable,” Pepper said. She shifted her chair closer to she could reach over and touch Bucky; she found her hand in the cat’s mouth. “Ouch!” she yelped. “ _Bad kitty_!”

“Hey!” Tony said, tapping Bucky between his ears. “No biting the nice lady that brought us dinner.”

Bucky’s ears flattened against his head and let go of Pepper’s hand. He let out a grumbled meow and shifted slightly, resting his chin on Tony’s knee.

“Are you ok?” Tony asked, dropping his pizza so he could take Pepper’s hand in his.

“I’m fine,” Pepper said. “He startled me, that’s all. It didn’t really hurt. I didn’t think he’d bite me – he looked so peaceful in your lap.”

“I guess he’s just a very good faker,” Tony said. “Jarvis – new point on the list. No touching the cat unless he’s uh… touching you first.”

“Noted, sir,” Jarvis said.

“What number are we at now?” Tony asked as Pepper pulled her hand back.

“We have reached number six on your list,” Jarvis said.

“Six?” Pepper said. She whistled. “That’s a lot of things to remember.”

“It’s not that big,” Tony said.

Pepper smiled tiredly. “Give me the short version, so I don’t accidentally lose a finger.”

“One – no automatic doors are to open or be powered up when Mr. Barnes is near them,” Tony said. “Two – No verbal responses from Jarvis unless there’s more than one person in the room. The disembodied voice freaks him out – go figure.”

“That’s not exactly a surprise,” Pepper said. “I think I’d have been more afraid if he _wasn’t_ scared of Jarvis.”

“Good point,” Tony said. He took a bite of his pizza. “Where was I? Oh. Right. Three – no looking at Mr. Barnes when he is in the litterbox,” he said. “I learned that the hard way. Also, I have now built him stairs so he can do his business as he pleases.”

“I’m sure he appreciates the privacy.”

“I hope so.”

“What’s number four?”

“No touching the stump.”

“What made you touch it in the first place?” Pepper asked.

“He had food stuck to it,” Tony said.

“And you were cleaning it off?”

“I _attempted_ to clean it off. Didn’t manage it, but he seems to have cleaned himself up, so at least it’s not a major problem.”

“What’s five?”

“No sudden movements or noise – whether he’s asleep or not.”

“How did you figure that one out?” Pepper asked.

“I ran into the kitchen to grab some coffee,” Tony said, “and it did not end well. He tried to eat my big toe through my sock when I walked past him. The poor guy huddled against the counter after I stopped screaming– he looked ready to rip the shit out of anything that came near him when I finally got my toe free. Maybe he thought there were demons in the walls or something.”

Pepper winced. “That’s rough. I wonder if he’s reacting like that because of something that happened to him yesterday, or because he’s never seen so much tech.”

“I don’t know,” Tony said. “It’d be nice to ask but Cap’s not answering his phone.” He scowled down at his pizza before biting into the crust with newfound strength.

“I’m sure he’s not answering because he’s busy,” Pepper said, gently. “Captain Rogers doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would ignore your calls on purpose – not when you’re taking care of his cat.”

“You’re probably right,” Tony said. He finished his slice of pizza and picked up another; he hesitated and then pulled off another chunk of stringy cheese. Bucky lifted his head slowly and eyed the cheese, licking his lips. He moved slower this time, his ears still pressed low against the top of his head. He delicately took a piece of cheese from Tony’s palm and ate it. He did the same thing with every single piece of cheese Tony offered him, and when he was finished, he licked Tony’s fingers clean, his rough, pink, tongue polishing off every last trace of cheese.

Pepper smiled at Bucky; she put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “He seems like a sweet cat – when he’s not trying to sink his teeth into someone’s hand.”

“Yeah,” Tony mused, wistfully. He knew it was selfish to even think it, but he couldn’t help wondering if Steve would let him see Bucky again when he came back. He shook his head; he hadn’t even had the cat that long and he already felt attached – it was _stupid_. He shouldn’t get so clingy with a cat he was _babysitting_ ; his brain was practically screaming that to him. Pepper must have noticed something was wrong, because she reached out and prodded him in the shoulder.

“You know, Bucky isn’t going to end up on mars when Steve comes back. You lives in the same building, Tony,” Pepper said. “You can visit.”

“I know,” Tony said. He picked up his pizza and bit into it viciously. It was weird to think that an animal could worm its way into his heart so quickly. Was he that much of a sap? He had to admit, it was nice having something warm in his lap; it had been a long time since he had last felt comfortable in any place outside of his workshop, and the living room felt a lot more comfortable with Bucky around.

“I bet Steve’ll let you borrow Mr. Barnes any time you want to pretend you’re a Bond villain,” Pepper teased.

Tony chuckled and scratched at the scruff of Bucky’s neck; the cat closed his eyes and began to purr again.

“He needs his pill now, I bet,” Pepper said, setting her crust aside. She yawned into her hand and wrinkled her nose when she noticed that her fingers were covered in grease. “Let’s do this. I want to take a shower before I start smelling like a giant wheel of cheese.”

“Alright,” Tony said. He rearranged Bucky’s paws and cast and picked him up again. “Ok buddy. Let’s get you pilled and then you can have your real dinner.”

 

 

Tony went to bed early. He hadn’t done that in _months_ ; it was strange to feel so drained when he hadn’t been in his workshop non-stop. He rolled over and found himself face to face with Bucky’s wet nose. “Go to sleep,” he ordered the cat. Bucky yawned in Tony’s face and closed his eyes.

Tony wrinkled his nose. “I’m starting to think I’m going to have to pick up some kitty toothpaste,” he grumbled.

Bucky rolled over and curled up in a ball, keeping his back to Tony.

“Fine,” Tony muttered through a yawn. “Be that way.”

Two hours later, Tony woke to Jarvis’ voice murmuring for him to get up. Standing on shaky legs, Tony pulled the blankets off of himself and looked around. It was a miracle he had managed to get upright without killing himself with his own bedding. “What’s going on, Jarvis?” he rasped. The lights in the room had been turned up, but he couldn’t see Bucky anywhere.

“Mr. Barnes is underneath your bed, sir,” Jarvis said, his voice just barely audible. “I believe he is suffering the aftereffects of a nightmare. My sensors indicate that Mr. Barnes has an elevated heartrate. His breathing is shallow.”

“He’s having a panic attack?” Tony asked. He kneeled down and peered under the bed. What he saw wasn’t reassuring. Bucky had wedged himself into a pile of stacked boxes – ones filled with paperwork that Tony hadn’t remembered to take out of his room after finishing with them. It would take some serious pulling to get the cat out unless he wanted to come out on his own. There would be no getting at Bucky like this.

“Bucky? Sweetie pie? Honey bunch? You ok?” Tony said, keeping his voice soft and calm. “You going to come out buddy?”

Bucky hissed at Tony and curled up into a tight ball. His eyes glowed in the darkness under the bed. Tony knew just by looking him that he meant business; there would be no cuddling or sweet talking the cat out.

“Ok,” Tony said. He dusted off his knees and crawled back into bed. “He’s not going to come out. Let’s just leave him there for now and see what happens.”

“Sir?” Jarvis said. “There’s one more thing.”

“Sure,” Tony groaned. “Hit me.”

“Colonel Rhodes has sent me a message. He will be arriving early in the morning,” Jarvis said.

Tony cheered weakly, his arm barely rising from his bed. “Yay. Call Happy and get him to pick up Rhodey’s favourite snacks. Wake me up when Rhodey gets here.”

“Done,” Jarvis said. “And sir?”

“Yes, Jarvis?” Tony mumbled into his pillow.

“Would you like me to send Colonel Rhodes the list so he doesn’t attempt to manhandle the cat?”

“Go ahead. I’m sure Rhodey’d love to keep his hands bite-free as much as the rest of us,” Tony mumbled.

“Very good, sir. I will keep you informed of both Colonel Rhodes and Mr. Barnes locations,” Jarvis said.

“You do that,” Tony said, his voice slurring as sleep took hold.

Ten minutes later, Tony snapped awake when something jumped up onto the bed. His heart hammering in his chest like a jackhammer, Tony rolled over and peered through the darkness at the lump crawling across the bed towards him. He knew what it was; that didn’t stop the sudden movement from scaring the shit out of him, though. He reached out as Bucky got closer. “Hey,” he murmured. “Come here.”

Bucky stumbled over Tony’s legs and galloped lopsidedly over to Tony. He jammed his head into Tony’s stomach with a soft meow and huddled close; he was shaking so hard, he fell over. He leaned his entire weight against Tony. 

Tony smoothed his hand down Bucky’s back, humming softly. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” he said. He curled his body around the cat and tucked the blankets around them, building a wall between the cold and the cat. 

Bucky let out another soft meow and ducked his head.

“I know,” Tony said. “I know. Bad dreams suck, but you’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you here – no one. I promise. I’ll keep you safe, sweetie. You’re safe here.” He carded his fingers through the cat’s fur. 

The cat’s breathing became soft snores; Bucky seemed calm – truly calm – for the first time since Tony had seen him that morning. 

Tony smiled and closed his eyes. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be up two weeks from now! Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodey's arrival brought sweet treats - and strange news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if anything funky shows up. I'll get it fixed asap!

Tony woke to his alarm blaring like it was trying to warn him a comet was about to crash into his bedroom. He opened one eye and glared at the clock on his bedside table, still not quite coherent or composed enough to remember that he could have just as easily checked the time with Extremis. It was seven thirty in the morning – an ungodly hour saved only for special events, Board Meetings, unfortunate press conferences and fancy breakfasts. Rhodey’s arrival was a mixture of fancy breakfast and Christmas morning – two things that came very rarely, but were the most exciting. He rolled over only after checking to make sure Bucky wasn’t in his way and got up, delicately prying the blankets apart and wiggling across the mattress so he could rise without disturbing his sleeping guest. Bucky was nestled into Tony’s pillow, his nose buried under his bedraggled tail; he was snoring softly, his breathing easy and slow. He had spent the entire night curled up with Tony – he hadn’t moved an inch after getting comfortable and Tony didn’t have the heart to wake him.

Tony crept over to his dresser; he pulled on a pair of navy blue jeans and a baggy t-shirt and then made his way out of his room on the tips of his toes, praying that his bones wouldn’t crack and wake Bucky up.

Once in the living room he relaxed. “Jarvis?” he murmured, keeping his voice low even though he was well out of Bucky’s range. “Let me know when Mr. Barnes wakes up, alright? I don’t want him panicking if he doesn’t see me. And turn the coffee machine on while you’re at it.”

“Done, sir,” Jarvis said. He sighed. “I’m afraid Mr. Barnes is already stirring.”

Tony scowled. “He heard me get up?”

“I believe he noticed the lack of warmth beside him,” Jarvis said, dryly. “He doesn’t appear to enjoy the cold.”

Tony poked his head back into his room. Sure enough, Bucky was sitting upright on Tony’s pillow, groggy but awake; the cat took one look at Tony and ambled for the edge of the bed at top speed, his steps wobbly but precise.

“You didn’t have to get up,” Tony groused as Bucky dropped down and padded across the floor towards him. “I was going to let you sleep in, you know.”

Bucky passed between Tony’s legs and hobbled over to the couch. He disappeared underneath it with a disgruntled meow.

Tony put his hands on his hips. “ _Really_? You’re going to hide right now – right after you got up?” When Bucky didn’t come out from under the couch to tell him off, he sighed and shuffled his way into the kitchen where a good dozen grocery bags had been left out in a neat pile. The perishables had been stashed in the fridge, he noted as he sorted through the first bag, but everything else had been left out so he could decide what he wanted to do with it. Happy was either getting a lot stealthier in his old age or Tony was getting better at sleeping through loud noises; he hadn’t even heard Happy fighting his way out of the elevator over and over again.

Tony scratched his head. What would Rhodey want to eat? The guy had been living off of army rations for months now, and while Rhodey wasn’t supposed to be out in the middle of nowhere, he constantly complained about what he was forced to eat. Something fancy would probably make Rhodey happy – something fancy, fattening and slathered in whipped cream. Tony picked up a bag of flour Happy had so thoughtfully included in his shopping spree. Waffles would work nicely – he hadn’t had waffles in a long time, not since he had tricked-out the waffle iron and given it increased waffle capacity and Rhodey would get a kick out of seeing that bad boy in action.

The elevator door opened with a delightful chime. Rhodey stepped out carrying a bag of styroform containers. He had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and was dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a short-sleeved white shirt with War Machine’s helmet drawn on it in stylish black lines. The sleeves of his leather jacket were wrapped around his waist.

“I hope you made coffee,” Rhodey grumbled as he plodded his way into the kitchen, kicking his shoes off one at a time. He scooted them towards the nearest wall as an afterthought and set his duffle bag on the floor. He set the bag of Styrofoam containers on the kitchen table and opened each one with a flourish, waving his hand over top of them so Tony could smell the ambrosia within. There, beautiful and steaming, were waffles – lots and lots of waffles. Some were smothered in whipped cream, milk chocolate curls, diced strawberries and sliced peaches. Some of the waffles were plain golden brown, and some had been made with chocolate or matcha powder and blueberries in the batter.

“Damn it,” Tony said, putting his bag of flour down on the counter. “You beat me to the punch.” His mouth was watering. He licked his lips.

Rhodey chuckled. “I guess that means you owe me one,” he said. He passed Tony, hip-checking him into the counter and threw open the first cupboard he came to. “I see you’re keeping the plates in the same places at least,” he said.

Tony rubbed his hip and scowled. “I’m too lazy to move them, you know that,” he said. “What is it with you and Pepper constantly trying bumping into me? I am not your personal bumper, you know.”

Rhodey laughed. “We just like having something squishy to bounce off of.”

Tony bristled. “I am not _squishy_!”

“Tony,” Rhodey said, smirking. “ _Everyone_ is squishy compared to the people you’re living with.”

“Cruelty!” Tony grumbled, his hands on his hips. He squeezed at his love handles. Sure, he had been eating a lot of take-out lately, but it wasn’t like he didn’t work out once or twice a week – when he had the time. He scowled at Rhodey. Stupid Rhodey and his stupid army-refined-body and its lack of body fat. Stupid Avengers and _their_ lack of body fat.

“I still can’t believe you’ve got the Avengers to live here,” Rhodey said, pulling out two plates. He grinned widely, waving a plate at the rest of the kitchen. “I heard they snuck in and rearranged things on you.”

“Who told you that?” Tony muttered darkly. It was true. Clint had spent an entire afternoon moving Tony’s cutlery and dishes around just to screw with him; to this day he still couldn’t remember where his fancy wine glasses were, and even though he didn’t drink anymore – he’d been sober for over two years now – it still pissed him off when he couldn’t find them. Sometimes it was nice to drink orange juice from an elegant glass.

“Oh, a little birdie dropped that story a while back,” Rhodey said. He set the plates on the counter before practically diving towards the coffee machine; if he could have gotten away with rubbing his face against it, he would have. “I missed you, Tony’s coffee. I missed you so, so much.”

Tony grinned. “I think we know the real reason why you came here instead of heading home for your R&R.”

Rhodey snorted. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” he said. He gave the coffee machine a gentle, loving, pat and returned to the table so he could pick out the waffles he wanted. He piled his plate high as he went from container to container, picking out his favourite chunks of fruit. He put a dollop of whipped cream on a square of every kind of waffle. Once he was satisfied, he let Tony have the containers and sauntered over to the coffee table, flopping down on the couch with a somewhat inappropriate groan. “Do you know how _tiring_ it is having to be serious all the damn time? Some of the guys on base have no goddamned sense of humor – don’t get me wrong, a lot of them do, but some of them walk around like they’ve got sticks up their asses all damn day. I’ve been waiting to park my ass on this couch ever since I went back out. I want comfort. I want to spend some time with soft, squishy things instead of sand.”

“I’m guessing that’s why you picked waffles,” Tony said with a grin.

“That’s one of the reasons. Bring me a fork, will you?” Rhodey licked whipped cream off of his lips and let out a lewd moan. “I missed you so much waffles – oh god, I missed you more than Tony’s coffee.”

Tony smiled softly. It was good to know that some things hadn’t changed; they had both seen more than their fair share of horrors over the years, but they could still enjoy a plate of waffles. He pulled two forks out of the drying rack after he finished piling his plate high with waffles and fruit and took his time shuffling his way towards the coffee table.

Rhodey cocked an eyebrow. “I’m assuming there’s a reason why you’re shuffling around, _grandpa_ ,” he said. “And it had better not be because you’re planning to zap me.”

“You got the email Jarvis sent you about Mr. Barnes, right?” Tony asked. He tossed Rhodey a fork and sat down on the edge of the couch closest to the armrest. Here, he mused, Bucky might feel comfortable enough to join him – assuming the furry little bastard decided to crawl out from under the couch.

“I got the email alright,” Rhodey said, stabbing a waffle. “So you’re cat-sitting, huh?”

“Yep,” Tony said, licking whipped cream off of his finger. “He’s right there – I know, he looks a bit like the couch at the moment but I’m pretty sure there’s a cat in there somewhere.” He pointed at the couch, rolling his eyes when all he could see was Bucky’s glowing eyes.

“Captain America’s cat is hiding under your couch _right now_ ,” Rhodey said. He squinted at the couch, trying to see Bucky without moving and then gave up, settling for smiling instead. “Remind me if I start walking around too fast – I’d rather not scare the little guy. He looked cute in those pictures you sent me – I guess I’ll have to wait to see him in real life.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate you inflating his ego when you coo at him,” Tony said. He cut a piece of waffle and blew on it. “Damn these smell good.”

Bucky’s nose appeared first from under the edge of the couch. He sniffed at the air, his whiskers twitching.

“Uh oh,” Rhodey said with a whistle. “I think he knows you’ve got food.”

Tony squinted at the cat. “Shit,” he said as Bucky slunk closer, keeping low to the ground as though he was tracking a bird, “I think you’re right.”

Bucky wiggled his back end, his eyes locked on Tony’s plate.

“Oh for _fuck’s sake_ ,” Tony groused, setting his plate on the arm of the couch in time to catch Bucky. “You can’t just climb up here like a normal animal? You’d think you had goddamned springs for legs, cat.”

Bucky settled down on Tony’s lap, fitting neatly over top of Tony’s thighs, his gaze glued to Tony’s plate. He licked his lips as he sniffed the air.

“ _Waffle thief_ ,” Tony said, smiling down at the cat. “Do you see what I’ve had to put up with? He’s sneaky!”

“How is him hurling himself into your lap with his eyes on your food _sneaky_?” Rhodey snorted. “I think you’re getting weird, man.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony muttered. He chopped up the rest of his waffles, making sure to set aside a few choice pieces of the plain ones so Bucky would have something to nibble. “Just do me a favor, Mr. Barnes. Don’t throw up on me if you don’t like the whipped cream, alright?” He held a piece of whipped cream smothered waffle out to Bucky and gave it a jiggle. Bucky grabbed the piece of waffle with a joyful meow, yanking it clean out of Tony’s hand. He ate the piece so quickly, it was as if it had never been there to begin with. When he was finished, he licked Tony’s fingers clean and then looked up at Tony, clearly demanding more.

“I was right. He _is_ cuter in person,” Rhodey said, watching as Bucky waited impatiently for Tony to give him more food, “I think Cap’s been feeding his cat _people food_ a lot more than you realize. Or who knows – maybe he _is_ a sneaky little guy after all. Maybe he’s stealing stuff of Cap’s plate.”

Tony chuckled. “I’m betting Steve’s not the stern taskmaster we all think he is.”

“That or he caves easily if you stare directly into his eyes and look _adorable_ ,” Rhodey said. He patted at the couch with his free hand, looking around. “Hey, would you mind if we turn on the news? I want to see what’s happened since I’ve been away.”

“Sure,” Tony said. “Jarvis, hook him up.”

The television turned on, the volume set down low so it didn’t boom as an exhausted looking reporter started speaking; the man looked ready to keel over, and his toupee seemed ready to leap off of his head if the wind decided to pay him a visit, but he had somehow managed to find the strength to keep on reading the news. “Today, we are here to mourn the loss of Captain America’s reputation.”

Tony nearly spit out his food.

“What did he just say?” Rhodey said, glaring at the television. “Did he really say that? Or did I hallucinate it?”

“I believe you heard correctly, Colonel Rhodes,” Jarvis said. There was a tinge of irritation in the AI’s voice. “Fox News has been airing commercials about this particular segment for the past week – Ms. Potts has been following it with interest and has requested that if it airs while she is in a meeting, I am to directly contact SI’s lawyers at the first mention of slander on the Avengers behelf.”

Tony smirked. “We’re mourning the loss of Cap’s honor? Let me guess who besmirched it,” he drawled. “Five bucks says it was me.” He picked up another piece of waffle and offered it to Bucky but was surprisingly snubbed when the cat turned away to stare at the television.

The reporter cleared his throat and smiled tiredly into the camera before speaking again. “Captain America, long held as America’s symbol of honor, virtue and the American Way, has taken up residence in Stark Tower,” he said.

“Bingo!” Tony crowed. “Jarvis, pay me out five bucks from my betting fund.”

“Sh!” Rhodey said, flapping a hand at Tony. “I want to hear this.”

Bucky’s tail thumped against Tony’s arm as though he was telling Tony to be quiet too.

Tony sighed and leaned back against the couch, resigned to listen to the droning reporter, waiting for the badmouthing he just _knew_ was on the way.

“As many of our viewers have seen from past reports, Stark Tower has been rebuilt since the attack on New York. It, unlike many of the buildings damaged during the Great Chitauri Attack, has suffered the least and had the most funding put back into its reconstruction. It has acted as a gleaming symbol of Stark’s flamboyant, belligerent and uncaring lifestyle since it first graced our city’s skyline. Many of our loyal viewers have suffered property damage – many have suffered loss of life – and yet Tony Stark continues to flaunt his wealth by collecting new property – in this case, Captain America himself.”

Rhodey turned to Tony, shaking his head. “I am so very _disappointed_ in you, Tony,” he said.

Tony scowled. “Very funny.”

“You _bought_ Captain America and you didn’t tell me?” Rhodey said with mock exasperation. “That’s just evil, man. You should have told me months ago! I thought we were friends!”

“I did not buy Captain America,” Tony muttered sullenly, glaring at the TV where a picture of Steve was on screen. The picture was a candid shot, taken by someone who had happened upon Steve when he was out running; someone had probably been given a small fortune for it. Tony cleared his throat and laughed. “I mean, I get why they would think I want to bang him. Cap’s hot and all – I’m not going to deny _that_ because you and I both know that if Captain America asked one of us out we’d say yes without even thinking about it – but even I’m not the kind of scumbag that would try and blackmail him into sticking around. I don’t ask people to have sex with me for money – they make the decision to crawl into my bed on their own!”

“I’m pretty sure if any of this was true, Pepper would have smacked you upside the head the second she found out about it,” Rhodey agreed. “Hell – I’d have helped her.”

“And everyone would have appreciated that,” Tony said with a thin smile.

The reporter continued on, his voice growing louder and louder as he became more incensed. “Mr. Stark is an avid collector of Captain America merchandise and for years, as our viewers well know we have tracked his collection. We at Fox have received copies of hundreds of receipts for purchases Stark has made and while we believe it is _wrong_ that he is collecting memorabilia that should go into a museum as it is a part of irreplaceable American history, we have had nothing – until recently – to prove that his behaviour is dangerous. We here at Fox have uncovered documents revealing that Mr. Stark has started a newer, more vicious collection.

Mr. Stark has _systematically_ reduced the Avengers to indentured servitude – he has purchased the rights to their names, likenesses and has copyrighted every last one of them. We do not know if the Avengers are aware of that fact, but they must suspect that something is amiss. The Avengers are required to follow strict rules and regulations in order to remain a part of the team – and some of these rules and regulations we find absolutely _appalling_. After this short commercial break, I will continue my report,” the reporter said. The man was so angry, he was practically frothing at the mouth. The screen cut to a Taco Bell commercial.

Rhodey cocked an eyebrow and turned to Tony. “Uh, did I miss something? When did you buy the rights to the Avengers?”

“I’ve had those rights ever since Fury got us together in New York,” Tony said with a shrug. “No one gave a shit when I bought them back then.”

“Why _did_ you buy them?” Rhodey asked, looking baffled.

“I didn’t want anyone making crappy toys and junk with our faces slapped on it. We deserve _quality_ , not cheaply made garbage. Kids should have something _nice_ to play with,” Tony said.

“Do the _Avengers_ know about this?” Rhodey asked, trying not to laugh.

“They all know – believe me, Pep and I had a _big_ talk with them about it before they moved in. The money we make goes into a special pot they can all draw from,” Tony said. “None of us wanted some weirdo making money off of our names, and I wasn’t going to just stand around and let someone make us look bad by selling something with crappy parts that some kid could choke to death on.”

“Fair enough,” Rhodey said with a smile.

“And before you ask, yes, I own the rights to War Machine too,” Tony said. He batted his eyelashes when Rhodey scowled at him. “Again – the money goes into the big pot, and you have access to the account. I was going to tell you about it after I showed you the new upgrades for your suit.”

Rhodey quirked an eyebrow. “You’re giving me upgrades _and_ money? I must have been really good this year.”

“What can I say – I’m nice like that,” Tony drawled. He rubbed his thumb against Bucky’s forehead and laughed when the cat leaned into his touch while simultaneously trying to get at the unattended waffles. “Oh honey, I can read you too well,” he said to the cat. “You just love me for my food.”

“Technically it’s _my_ food,” Rhodey said, taking another bite.

Tony feigned outrage and cut up another piece of waffle.

“Alright – so the ownership thing is fair. Clue me in on the rest of it. What rules and regulations do you have aside from the whole not eating everything in your cupboards without at least telling you about it thing?” Rhodey asked, nodding to the TV. The reporter was back, and was waiting while the news anchor reiterated what had been said.

“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” Tony said, leaning forwards. “I wonder what’s got him so worked up? Did he see my bare ass somewhere? I haven’t streaked through Times Square in _years_ , and I’m pretty sure if I’ve been naked in town without knowing it, Pepper would have said something by now. I mean, I’ve been known to stick my bare ass against glass windows when I was drunk, but I haven’t exactly been _drinking_.”

Bucky shifted slightly and looked back at Tony and the waffles before turning to look at the television as the announcer smiled at the camera and allowed the reporter to start talking again.

“I’m afraid this is more serious than you think, David. Mr. Stark has his fellow Avengers on a _strict_ dietary regimen,” the reporter said with a growl. “Our research have revealed that Mr. Stark insists his Avengers maintain their appearances so they do not embarrass him. He goes so far as to force them to wear make-up and get their hair professionally styled so that they look perfectly done up every second of the day – this includes the male members of the team. Even their work uniforms aren’t safe. They are tailored to be as revealing and skin tight as possible – for _Mr. Stark’s_ viewing pleasure. Mr. Stark has even ordered in everyday clothing for his team, and has, according to our hidden sources, even gone so far as to give them _curfews_.”

“ _Curfews_?” Tony said with a sneer. “Since when can I give anyone a curfew? Christ, _Steve’s_ the one handing out curfews and that’s only because he doesn’t want us staggering around all sleep-deprived if we get called out on a mission.”

Rhodey let out a barked laugh. “Captain America set a curfew?”

“Captain America _tried_ to set a curfew– he doesn’t follow it either,” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

The reporter cleared his throat and took a sip of water from the glass beside him. “While we are still investigating this story, we felt it was necessary to share this information for the sake of the brave men and women who are part of the Avengers – men and women who defend our dear city,” the reporter said. “Their living conditions, while lavish, come with such strict conditions it is as if they are prisoners in their own homes. We have long suspected that Mr. Stark was capable of this kind of depravity, and it must be stopped.”

“Who the hell is filling this guy’s head with this bullshit?” Rhodey said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Man, when they get things _wrong_ they really get things _wrong_. The Avengers are prisoners? Have they even _met_ real-life prisoners? Prisoners would be lining up around the _block_ for a stay in this place.”

“Exactly,” Tony said, grinding his teeth. The reporter was clearly off of his rocker, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hear the guy shit-talk him. There was a reason why he had a whole legal department to take care of his and the company’s image; it didn’t matter if the shit being shoveled was true or not – SI stock would still drop, and if the shit-talking went too far, SI employees might sufferer the consequences. Tony refused to have to lay anyone off because some _blowhard_ felt the need to take a shot at _him_.

The reporter smiled thinly at the camera and cleared his throat. “Is it Mr. Stark’s inability to keep a relationship that fuels this urge to collect Avengers? Is _this_ the reason he hasn’t found a wife and settled down like a _real_ American? There are an awful lot of decisions he’s made that we don’t agree with here at Fox – his youthful dalliances with men _and_ women, for example – his decision to stop producing weapons another – but this goes beyond that. Mr. Stark has been reckless ever since he was allowed to take over Stark International. I know that I and our viewers still mourn the loss of Obadiah Stane – the _only_ man who seemed to be able to convince Mr. Stark to see reason – and we must now act on Mr. Stane’s behalf. Mr. Stark’s lifestyle, his _vanity_ and his all-consuming need to reduce the Avengers – and our beloved Captain America – to _prostitutes_ has gone on for long enough.”

Tony took a sharp breath in through his nose.

Rhodey’s eyes narrowed. “What the _fuck_ did he just say?”

Bucky hissed at the TV; he looked ready to lunge at it.

“Mr. Stark, of course,” the reporter droned on, “was unavailable for comment. We suspect that he and his CEO, Ms. Virginia Potts are keeping a low profile after receiving our report this morning. They are both involved in structuring the Avengers personal lives and we suspect that Ms. Pott’s involvement is the reason why the individual Avengers appear in public so infrequently. We are requesting that our viewers write in and tell us if they see _any_ of the Avengers out in public, as we are deeply worried for their sanity and safety – they are _people_ , Mr. Stark. People – not _property_. Your father and Obadiah Stane would be ashamed of your behavior.”

“Jarvis,” Rhodey growled, “turn this crap off before I put my _fist_ through that TV.” He put his plate down on his knees and cracked his knuckles.

The television turned off.

Bucky turned around in a circle and butted his head against Tony’s hand, letting out a grumbled meow.

Tony swallowed down a mouthful of bile and put his plate on the coffee table, his appetite gone. He tried to shrug off the reporter’s words, but it was harder than he expected; he hadn’t heard something this vicious since he had last talked to his father. He tried in vain to find something witty to say, but when he came up for air, the words felt hollow and bitter in his mouth. He discarded them and instead, he blurted out his worries for Pepper. She didn’t deserve this kind of thing – she wasn’t a _fuckup_ like him.

“Pep’s going to blow a gasket when she sees this. I can’t believe those fuckers think slandering _her_ name is going to win them points with the bigwigs,” Tony said. He ran his hands through his hair and remembered with a scowl that he still had cat spit on his fingers. He dropped his hand into his lap. “Steve’s going to shit a brick.”

Rhodey gave his head a shake, as though checking he was awake or not.

Bucky lapped at Tony’s fingers and kneaded at his chest, letting out a rumbled growl, as though trying to help. Tony looked down at him, smiling tiredly, wishing that he hadn’t been drained of his good mood; it was nice having Bucky’s warm weight pressed up against him – reassuring, even – after hearing that damned reporter spew poison. Sometimes he wished he could spend his days dealing with cats instead of people; cats didn’t try and murder your reputation for shits and giggles.

Rhodey was unimpressed with Tony’s response; that much was clear.

“You’re _damn right_ Pep’s going to blow a gasket – and she’s not the only one. Captain America’s probably going to punch that asshole in the face if they interview him! Your entire _team’s_ going to start planning murder when they find out what that piece-of-shit said about you. I can’t _believe_ those morons thought they could get away with letting this kind of story air,” Rhodey said, his eyes ablaze with fury. He wrestled his phone from his back pocket and dialed, all the while glaring murderously at the darkened television. He pressed the phone to his ear as it connected his call and shifted in his seat, glancing over at Bucky. “You agree with me, right pal?” he said to Bucky as he reached out and tried to give the cat a pet; he was nipped for his efforts. He pulled his hand back with a grimace. “Damn you’re mean.”

Tony chuckled softly and stroked a line down Bucky’s forehead, trying to focus on the cat instead of the twist in his gut. “I’m sure he’s with us in spirit,” he said.

Bucky sneezed and blinked his eyes lazily.

Rhodey smiled. He leaned forwards when his call went through. “Hey, Pep? Did you see what we just saw? Uh huh. Fox News decided they wanted to send one of their reporters up shit creek,” he said. He let out a low, huffed laugh, his eyes glinting. “Yeah, I know what you mean – its par for the course with those rat bastards, but _shit_ , Pep. Like Tony could ever be that kind of guy – they need to get a kick in the face for this.” He bumped shoulders with Tony, with a soft smile on his face after a minute of listening to Pepper and nodding along.

Tony couldn’t hear what Pepper was saying – and didn’t want to pry with Extremis – but he could tell that she was talking calmly even though she was just as angry as Rhodey was. It scared him how good she was with handling stress.

The tension drained from Rhodey’s body; he gave Tony a gleeful smile. “Pepper says she’s got everything under control. She stepped out from her meeting to deal with it _personally_.”

Tony grimaced. “She shouldn’t to do that. I can care of it,” he said. He didn’t like that Pepper seemed to have to deal with _all_ of his screw-ups, even when they weren’t really _his_ screw-ups.

“Oh believe me – you couldn’t stop her from wringing their necks if you tried,” Rhodey said, patting Tony’s knee. He winced when Pepper said something Tony couldn’t hear. “Uh, huh. I just told him.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know – I’ll handle it. Right – yes. I get it. No Extremis, focus on the cat and his projects – no plans for murder or the absolute destruction of Fox News until the lawyers have it all smoothed out. Right. Ok.” He smiled. “Right. Ok. Talk to you later, Pep. Give them a good punch in the face from all of us.”

Tony gave the fur under Bucky’s chin a scratch. “Are you two busy planning something horrible and not letting me know about it _on purpose_?”

“It’s a surprise – we’ll get you a cake and everything when we’re ready. You’ll find out about it when Fox finds out about it,” Rhodey said. He cleared his throat and put his phone away, rubbing his hands togehter. “So, I think you said something about having _upgrades_ for War Machine?”

“I might have,” Tony said, squinting suspiciously at Rhodey. “You’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

Rhodey grinned, all teeth. “Now why would I do that?”

“What makes you think you’re going to get to see the new upgrades right now?” Tony asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He chuckled when Rhodey’s face fell. “Hey – we’re not even finished breakfast. Relax.”

“You still want to eat after all of _that_?” Rhodey asked, glancing at the television and then at his and Tony’s abandoned plates. “I mean, I love waffles, but even I feel a little queasy.”

“I think _someone_ here needs to eat at least,” Tony said, patting Bucky on the rump. Bucky stood up with a startled huff. He circled Tony’s lap and nibbled at Tony’s hand, seemingly glaring at him for the butt patting that had made him get up without his body’s permission.

“Ok, so we’ll put the Captain’s darling some mushy food and head down to your workshop,” Rhodey said, standing up. He grabbed both of their plates before Tony could even reach for his and jogged into the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. “You going to move, or am I going to have to carry you?”

Tony laughed. Leave it to Rhodey to bring some excitement back into life. He picked Bucky up and deposited the grumpy cat on the floor. “Alright – breakfast for Mr. Barnes and then we hit the workshop.”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all morning,” Rhodey said, scraping their plates. He sorted through the Styrofoam containers, moving things around until the leftovers were all in one container; he put the container in the fridge and whistled. “Shit, Tony – Buy enough food? You could feed an army with all of this.”

“Aww honeybear, we all know you like it when I spoil you,” Tony said.

Rhodey pulled the open can of cat food from the fridge and tossed it to Tony, who caught it one-handed. “Feed your cat,” he grumbled.

“ _Technically_ , Bucky’s not my cat,” Tony said, setting the cat food down on the counter. He pulled Bucky’s dish from the drying rack and yelped when Bucky started lazily weaving his way around his feet in figure-eights.

“Is there a reason you’re staring at that cat like it’s an alien in disguise?” Rhodey asked, leaning against the counter.

“It’s nothing – it’s just, he’s not mine. He’s _Captain America’s_ cat,” Tony said. He tried not to think about how Peggs had wrapped herself around his legs like this back when she had been young and spry, but failed miserably. He sighed. “He’s not my cat.”

“That’s right. He’s _Captain America’s_ cat,” Rhodey said, his voice filled with wonder. He peered down at Bucky, watching as the cat tried to climb Tony’s leg to get at the food Tony was scooping out. “Didn’t you have a dream like this when you were a teenager?”

Tony scowled and set Bucky’s dish down on the floor before his pants ended up around his ankles. “I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about.” He stepped around Bucky and elbowed Rhodey as he walked past him. “And even if it _was_ my dream, hypothetically speaking, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the _only_ one hoping Captain America would wander into his dorm room with a box of kittens.”

“Hey – we _were_ talking about you,” Rhodey groused. He followed Tony to the elevator. “And I didn’t want him to wander into my dorm room with a box of kittens. I wanted him to walk into my room so he could declare his love for you and get you to stop stealing all of my goddamned sandwiches.”

“And yet sadly that never happened,” Tony said.

“And you still steal my lunch every time we go out to eat. But hey, there’s always the Bucky Barnes dreams to fall back on, huh?” Rhodey said. “I seem to remember you had a thing for him.”

Tony’s cheeks went red; he scowled. “I hate you.”

“Aww, don’t be that way. We both agreed that Barnes was hotter than the sun and had an ass we could both see ourselves worshiping until old age – at least, I’m pretty sure we agreed to that,” Rhodey said, drumming his fingers on his leg. “Or did I hallucinate that part?”

“You didn’t hallucinate,” Tony muttered. He pinched the bridge of his nose and prayed for a headache so he could pretend there was a reason why his face felt like it was going to burst into flames. He had been pretty sure Rhodey had forgotten about that little slip up – it had been so many years ago – but at least it was only Rhodey and Pepper who knew what had been going on in his head in university. The two of them were trustworthy; they wouldn’t let anything slip. Christ – if Steve ever found out about this he was _doomed_ – he wouldn’t be able to look the guy in the eye ever again.

“I’m pretty sure we agreed not to talk about Bucky Barnes’ sexy ass while in public,” Tony said, clearing his throat. He cheated on Pepper’s no-Extremis rule and password protected the folder of Captain America and Bucky images he had on his server just as a precaution. He was fairly certain Jarvis guarded that folder well, but he didn’t want to take any risks – now with two super spies living in his building.

“ _Are_ we in public?” Rhodey asked, his hip cocked to the side. He looked around. “I seem to be the only one here – and Jarvis isn’t going to say anything to anyone, right?”

“My lips are sealed, Colonel,” Jarvis said.

Rhodey pressed the elevator call button with a smirk. “See? It’s all good.”

Tony sighed wearily.

“Shall I take this to mean you wish me to watch Mr. Barnes for you?” Jarvis asked.

Tony grin faltered. Should they really be leaving Bucky alone? His workshop wasn’t exactly close to the penthouse and if something happened while he was gone, he wasn’t so sure he could live with himself – he wasn’t so sure he could live with the knowledge that he had hurt _Steve’s_ cat. On the other hand, it wasn’t like Jarvis _couldn’t_ deal with anything Bucky did while he and Rhodey were gone – and they wouldn’t be gone for long. Tony cracked his knuckles, calculating every possible scenario with a little, teensy bit of help from Extremis. It would be fine. Bucky was an adult cat – not some fluffy, wet-behind-the-ears kitten. Bucky would be fine alone – hell, he’d probably just curl up somewhere and sleep the day away like the lazy lump he was. He stepped inside the elevator with Rhodey at his side.

“Sir?” Jarvis asked tentatively.

“I think you can do a bit of light cat-sitting. Let me know if Bucky needs me and let’s get this party started,” Tony said. He rubbed his hands together, locking eyes with Rhodey. “You’re going to love what I did with your baby.”

Rhodey grinned.

The elevator doors started to close; before Tony could even yell out a warning, Bucky had launched himself into the elevator at top speed and crashed into Tony’s legs. Apparently their trip to his workshop wasn’t going to be so cat-free after all.

“You know,” Tony said, bending down and picking Bucky up, “if you wanted to come with us you could have _said_ something.”

Bucky stared into Tony’s eyes, his expression dead and blank as always.

“Jeeze,” Rhodey said, glancing at the cat. “Does he _always_ look like that? That’s fucking creepy.”

Tony smoothed down the now-rumpled fur on Bucky’s sides as he held the cat against his chest. “I’ve only had him a few days. We’ll have to ask Steve the next time he calls.”

“He’d better call soon,” Rhodey grumbled, crossing his arms.

 

 

The lights to the workshop came on one at a time as they approached the tinted glass walls that kept it sealed away from the outside world. Tony’s workshop was located in the middle of Stark Tower, isolated from the Avengers’ personal floors, and while a workshop in the basement would have been ideal considering its proximity to the freight elevator and parking lot, it had been too dangerous an option. When it exploded, and that was always a when because he knew there would always be a day in the future when _something_ blew up, the explosion would have the power to take down the entire tower and that was a bit of a problem. Up here though, nestled between three reinforced floors above and below, floors that both buffered the sound and were hulk-proof, the workshop was safe from damn near everything – and safe enough _for_ damn near everything else.

Tony let out a shuddered breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding; the world felt a little less cold here, less stifling, and while the reporter’s words were still bouncing around in his head, the words were muffled by the presence of his tech.

Rhodey followed along behind Tony, staring at everything in carefully concealed awe. “You’ve done a lot since I’ve been here last,” he said, nodding in approval. Dummy rolled over to him, beeping excitedly; he rapped his knuckles on Dummy’s hand to the tune of shave-and-a-haircut, just the way Dummy liked it, and smiled down at the bot. “I see your best friend is back up and running again.”

“He’s been back for a while now,” Tony said. Dummy had been the first thing he had reassembled in this workshop; he always kept his promises, and he had sworn he would get the bot up and running no matter how much of a pain in the ass Dummy was. The destruction of his Malibu house had weighed heavily on him, and the loss of his bots had been nearly unbearable; thankfully, everything had turned out fine in the end. He had spent a hell-of-a-lot more time fiddling with the bots’ blueprints than he would have liked before settling on just rebuilding him from the original template, but that was how things were sometimes. The old ways worked just fine; the improved Dummy wouldn’t have been Dummy. It had been a stressful few months after that painful fight with the Mandarin, but that was over now – over for all of them. There were things, of course, that Rhodey didn’t know – that most of the Avengers didn’t know, either – but that was how it had to be. Pepper hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about the dormant form of Extremis inside of her, although he suspected that Rhodey knew about it regardless.

Tony walked over to his worktable, ready to set Bucky down and was startled when Bucky squirmed in his grasp like a snake trying to get free; the cat’s breath came out in quick pants. “It’s ok,” Tony murmured, hoping to reassure Bucky. “It’s ok. I’ll put you down in a second – just let me put you down. It’s ok.”

Bucky refused to wait; he squirmed, wiggled and _pushed_ at Tony until he was free. In his flight, he scratched Tony across the chin with the claws on his one good back foot. He dropped down to the floor with a muffled thump. Skidding across the cement floor, he ran for the exit and vanished around the corner.

Tony stared wide-eyed at the doorway and rubbed at his bleeding chin. He hadn’t seen a cat move that fast before; Bucky must have been pretty damn scared. He glanced around at the workshop, wondering just what it was that could have caused the reaction. There was a lot of stuff around – a lot of strange-looking tech – but it wasn’t like something had come running at them with some kind of weaponry drawn. Dummy couldn’t be that frightening – could he?

Rhodey grimaced. “Ouch. You ok?”

Tony nodded and looked down at the blood on his fingers. The scratch wasn’t bleeding too badly, but it was a miracle the cat had missed getting him in the eye. “I’ll go get him – Jarvis, pull up War Machine’s holographic wireframe and give Rhodey something to play with while I make sure the cat isn’t trying to burrow through the walls,” he said.

A wireframe hologram of War Machine appeared in front of Rhodey, bathing him in blue light. Rhodey let out a strangled squeal and pulled a rolling chair over to Tony’s work desk; he sat down so he could admire the newest version of War Machine, and cleared his throat. “Feel free to take your time,” he said, flapping a hand at Tony. “I’m good here.”

Tony moved slowly, making sure each step was audible. He crept around the corner of the glass wall and looked around, worried that Bucky might have found somewhere unsafe to hide; he had closed off all of the venting and free space outside the workshop’s glass walls the moment Bucky had started struggling, but sometimes cats were far too smart for their own good and he worried that Bucky might have found his way out already.

He didn’t have to worry.

He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Bucky huddled against the wall near the elevator. His heart ached at the sight of the cat’s misery, but he was glad to see that Bucky was safe.

Bucky was ducked down low, his ears held flat against his head, his eyes wild; his good front paw was curled around his body, and so was his good back foot. The leg in its cast was the only thing left out in the open; it couldn’t curl properly because it was too big and clunky to maneuver.

“Bucky?” Tony called out.

The cat jerked in place and scooted backwards until his back end was pressed up flush against the wall behind him; he had effectively trapped himself in a corner but he didn’t seem to have noticed.

Tony sat down on the floor. He had to stop himself from rushing forwards and scooping the cat up. Comforting a terrified animal when it was in a state of panic wasn’t a smart move, even if it would make him feel better. Instead, he made sure he stayed very still and, despite the growing urge to creep closer on his hands and knees. He waited for Bucky to make the first move. He spoke softly, telling Bucky what the workshop was and why it was so important to him; he told Bucky about the Iron Man armor and War Machine – how he had built them to protect people, and how he and the Avengers made sure that people wouldn’t have to live in fear anymore. He rambled on about how he was planning to make Pepper a suit of armor even though she had specifically told him not to, about how he was going to make a new upgraded version of the Quinjet and how there were a thousand and one projects to be worked on – all of them stored and maintained in the safety of his workshop. The workshop was safe – it was big, and scary for something small and furry, sure, but it was safe, and nothing inside was going to hurt them. He told Bucky that Dummy would behave – he knew the bot wouldn’t try anything funny – and while there were scary holograms and bright lights, the most dangerous thing in there was the six week old tuna sandwich in the refrigerator that he had forgotten to throw out. He knew he probably sounded crazy; he had a feeling that Rhodey would laugh his ass off when he found out that he had been talking to a cat about his projects and his life and damn near everything he could think of, but he knew that it was worth the funny looks and jokes. Bucky would be fine. Things would be fine – he would make sure of it. When he finally fell silent, it felt like time had slowed to a crawl. Bucky didn’t do anything more than shiver in his corner and then, at long last, the cat stood on shaking paws and approached Tony, his head hung low.

Tony pulled Bucky into his lap and stroked him all over, paying special attention to Bucky’s ears and cheeks. He cuddled the cat against him, letting Bucky sniff at the cut on his chin. “It’s ok, sweetie,” he murmured as Bucky nuzzled at his throat. “It’s ok. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”

Bucky curled into a ball and tucked his face into Tony’s knee. He let out a weary sigh and closed his eyes.

Tony stroked a line down Bucky’s back. “Jarvis, tell Rhodey I’ll be back in there after Bucky’s calmed down a bit more,” he said. He could have just as easily yelled everything out, but a part of him worried that yelling might make what little calm Bucky had found melt away into terror again.

“Colonel Rhodes has informed me that he demands cream cheese and lox on bagels for dinner as penance for this heinous interruption, sir,” Jarvis said. “He has also requested that you should put the newest iteration of War Machine into production before he dies of old age.”

Tony laughed. “Tell him it’s in the queue and it’ll be done before he leaves at the end of his vacation,” he said. “And tell him I already have the lox, cream cheese and bagels ready and waiting.”

 

 

Tony continued to stroke Bucky’s fur until his ass fell asleep and he was forced to get up, despite Bucky’s grumbled meows of protest. When he checked the time, sneaking in some brief Extremis time, he realized that he had been sitting on the floor for over an hour. That certainly explained the way his back had cracked a good ten times when he was standing up. God he felt old some days.

He looked down at Bucky as he stretched. “Are you feeling better now?” he asked.

Bucky looked up at him and gave him his patented dead-eyed stare.

“Alright,” Tony said. “I’m going to take that as a yes.” His joints cracking, his back sore, Tony staggered back into the workshop. “Leave the doors open behind me, Jarvis,” he said, approaching Rhodey, who was still staring in fascination at the hologram floating in front of him.

Rhodey smirked. “So I take it the illustrious Mr. Barnes is ok now?”

Tony glanced over his shoulder and saw that Bucky was peering around the workshop door. The cat was eyeing everything suspiciously, but the fear that had been there so vividly before was gone. Bucky looked almost _curious_ now.

“I’m hoping so,” Tony said. He summoned a holographic keyboard in front of him using Extremis (ignoring Rhodey’s glare) and created a new folder on his private server, naming it Projects_to_Complete. There were a lot of things waiting to be sent to the production line, and most of it had to be done here in his workshop; he couldn’t trust that the fabrication would be completed to his satisfaction anywhere else – or that anywhere else would be able to keep his work safe. He created a new text document and typed out a list of things he needed put into production, adding War Machine at the top of the list, right before the next Iron Man iteration. His suit was a priority too, of course, but it could wait – at least until Rhodey’s new suit was up and running.

Rhodey grinned and nudged Tony’s shoulder. “I guess you weren’t kidding, huh?”

“What?” Tony said, idly adding a prototype arm for Bucky onto his list. It would be easy to get it fabricated and ready for testing – the real challenge would be getting the cat to sit still long enough to measure him for a proper fit. There were a good hundred other things he needed to get out the door, and if he hadn’t had Extremis and Jarvis helping him sort through it all, his work likely wouldn’t have been finished for _months_. He was suddenly very glad that Pepper had pestered him about getting things sent off to R &D earlier than necessary; it made things a hell of a lot easier to prioritize his other projects when company work was already out of the way.

“War Machine appears to be on the top of the list,” Rhodey said, waggling his eyebrows. He spun the War Machine hologram around in front of him, grinning widely as it sparkled in the light and posed dramatically with its arms out in front of it.

“I can put it at the _bottom_ of the list if you want,” Tony teased, highlighting War Machine’s bullet point.

Rhodey scowled and punched Tony in the shoulder. “Don’t you _dare_.”

Tony chuckled and deselected the text. He glanced over his shoulder at the door and saw that while he had been working, Bucky had crept further into the room. The cat was now hiding behind a stack of spare parts and was peeking out from behind it, checking Dummy out. The bot hadn’t quite realized that they had a guest, and was still sitting in its charging station waiting to be called over again to the table where Tony and Rhodey were working.

“He’s creeping closer,” Rhodey whispered, not looking behind him. “Is this like a watched kettle thing? If you look at him, he won’t move?”

“I have no idea,” Tony said with a smile. “Hey, Dummy? If you plan on coming out of your charging station, don’t run the cat over, alright?”

Dummy’s arm whirred sadly.

“And why is that making you sad?” Tony grumbled. “Were you planning on running over the cat? Because if you were that’s not cool, buddy.”

“Yeah really,” Rhodey snorted.

“No scaring the cat,” Tony said. He tossed a screwdriver at Dummy and watched as the bot picked it up.

Bucky ducked his head back behind the stack of boxes.

“Are you _trying_ to freak that cat out?” Rhodey asked with a huffed laugh.

“I’m trying to make sure he knows Dummy _moves_ ,” Tony said. “I’m pretty sure that’s good thing – considering I want to avoid seeing Mr. Barnes piss himself when Dummy comes rolling up ready to say hi.”

“Good point,” Rhodey said. He rolled his chair backwards and then winced when Bucky disappeared again. “Uh – right. No sudden moves. Shit – sorry.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Tony said, turning back to his keyboard.

“You didn’t see his _eyes_ , man,” Rhodey said with a sigh. “I swear, that cat acts like a tiny little hairy _person_. I swear he was glaring at me earlier.” He rubbed a hand over his nose. “Maybe I’ve been awake too long and I’m starting to see things.”

“It _was_ an early morning,” Tony agreed, glancing between the list he had created and the data War Machine had sent in during its last system scan. He frowned. There was a glitch in the Gatling Gun’s code which caused it to get closer to overheating than normal after extended use. He wondered why Rhodey hadn’t mentioned it.

“I spent most of my morning flying War Machine over here,” Rhodey said, yawning into his arm. “I had to get permission to take it off base, remember?”

“I vaguely remember what asking permission is like,” Tony said, still scanning War Machine’s code. “Where’s War Machine sitting right now?” He glared at Rhodey when he yawned. “Damn you, _yawn-maker_.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rhodey said, yawning again. He gave his head a shake, as if that would make him less sleepy. “I parked it in your private garage so you could get a look at it without all the lookie-loos seeing I was here. You didn’t think I picked those waffles up while flying the damn thing, did you?”

Tony grinned and turned back to the code. “So War Machine’s having some problems, huh?”

“Needs a tune up,” Rhodey said with a shrug. “That’s what happens when you only get a chance to look at it every once in a while.”

Tony scowled. “Harsh, but true,” he said. Rhodey was right. He hadn’t been able to give War Machine a lot of attention in the past few months – not with all the Avenging he had been doing and the extended trips Rhodey had been forced to take while on tour. It had been a pretty chaotic year; he was going to have to start mapping out maintenance days every few months so he got everything done. It was bad enough when the Avengers’ gear started acting up – he could do those repairs here in his workshop – but when War Machine had problems, Rhodey had to deal with a bunch of bone-headed army technicians, and that wasn’t exactly fair.

Rhodey squeezed Tony’s shoulder, kneading at Tony’s tense flesh. “Look, I get it. You’ve got a lot of stuff on your plate right now – don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I get to fly every once in a while, man.”

Tony let out a hissed sigh and ran his fingers through his greasy hair. “I know – I just wish there were more hours in the day. It’d be so much easier to get this stuff done if I didn’t have to take breaks.”

“Yeah, well,” Rhodey said, clearing his throat, “Extremis isn’t the answer.”

Tony groaned. “I know that.”

“Really?” Rhodey said. “ _Do you_?”

Tony saved the list and closed it. He turned in his chair to face Rhodey, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you really think I’d be dumb enough to use Extremis full-time again?”

“The fact that you have to add an _again_ to that sentence proves my point,” Rhodey grunted. “And I didn’t say you were dumb for using it. I don’t think you’re dumb – I think you don’t know your limits sometimes. And if you do, I’m pretty sure you’re ignoring them.”

Tony leaned back against his chair, shoulders drooping. He groaned and glared up at the ceiling.

“I get it,” Rhodey said, his voice turning soft. “I do. You want to be there and help everyone you can every second of the day – you don’t want anyone to get hurt.” He looked down at his hands and traced a circle in the middle of his palm, where there was a nickel-shaped scar; Rhodey had taken a bullet to the hand once, and it had taken quite a lot of surgery to get the damage fixed – he had been lucky Tony had been around to pay for it, or the scarring would have been much worse. The injury had been for a good cause; if he hadn’t gotten in the way, his mother would have taken that bullet to the head. The mugger, a man who was now buried so deeply in the penal system he would never see the light of day again, had tried to take Rhodey’s mother’s purse and she hadn’t been willing to give it up even though there had been nothing in it aside from a few crumpled ones and a solitary ten. Rhodey knew what it was like to make hard calls – in life and at work. Tony trusted him; he just wished that Rhodey wasn’t so good at reading him.

“I get why you do what you do,” Rhodey said. “I do, but there’s a point where you have to accept that you can’t save everyone – it’s not in the cards all the time.”

Tony clenched his fists. “I _refuse_ to accept that.”

Rhodey looked up sharply. His expression was grim, but his eyes held understanding. “It’s not something anyone _wants_ to accept, Tones,” he said. “It’s just makes it a little easier to sleep at night.”

Tony let out a shaky breath. It would be nice to have a good night’s sleep again; there hadn’t been many of those in the last little while, aside from last night when he had had Bucky curled up on the pillow beside him. Sometimes he wondered if he had _ever_ slept well before becoming Iron Man, or if he had simply imagined it all. He let his fingers loosen and dropped his hands to his lap.

“I know the Avengers have been keeping you busy,” Rhodey said.

“They’re in and out of here every other day,” Tony said, rolling his shoulders. “I’d feel pretty damned unloved if they _weren’t_ keeping me busy.”

“But they’re living here, right?” Rhodey asked, with a hiss of annoyance. “They actually have floors of their own – Pepper told me they live here.”

“They live here, yes,” Tony growled.

“So _where_ are they?” Rhodey asked.

“What are you getting at?” Tony said, his voice strained. “Am I missing something here?”

“I’m asking you where your teammates are,” Rhodey said, calmly. “Where are they _right now_?”

Tony leaned back in his chair, pondering the question. “Thor’s in Asgard, dealing with Loki’s bullshit,” he said after a minute.

“Alright – so where’s Hawkeye?”

“He’s camping in the woods with Bruce. They said they wanted to go fishing. Apparently the big guy finds it calming to sit in a boat and be bitten by flies.”

“And Captain America is with Black Widow,” Rhodey said, nodding along. “Alright.”

“I don’t get what you’re trying to point out, Rhodey,” Tony said, his brow furrowed.

“You don’t need to do _everything_ right now,” Rhodey said, looking weary. “You’ve got a team – you can share the workload – you can share the people-saving.”

“I’m not following you,” Tony said, squinting at Rhodey.

Rhodey groaned and put his head in his hands. He scrubbed at his hair and then let his hands drop, locking eyes with Tony. “They help you save people when you’re out in the field, you are aware of that, right?” He said.

“Of course I’m aware of that,” Tony grunted.

“So use them for more than that – let _them_ do things for you,” Rhodey said.

“I _do_ let them do things,” Tony said, slowly.

“Look,” Rhodey said, rubbing his forehead. “Ok. I think I’m not making myself clear, so I’m just going to come out and say it.”

“Go ahead,” Tony said.

“Don’t use Extremis just because you want to keep your team from having to do work around here,” Rhodey said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “ _Seriously_ – let them live without a few upgrades every once in a while. You deserve to be able to sit back and relax sometimes too, you know.”

“I _do_ relax,” Tony insisted. He spread his arms, gesturing to the workshop around them. “I’m relaxing right now!”

“You’re debugging War Machine version 10.1 in your head, aren’t you?” Rhodey said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes but that’s because you _asked_ me to do it,” Tony said.

“That’s true, but I didn’t expect you to _drop everything_ to do it – even if I do appreciate it,” Rhodey said. He leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers under his chin. “I didn’t take this vacation just for _me_ – you know that right?”

Tony frowned. What the hell was Rhodey talking about? _Rhodey_ had been planning his vacation for months. There had been no handholding, no questions asked. Rhodey had called, said he was dropping by and that he had plenty of time to relax and play around – no one had ordered Rhodey to do that.

“Tony,” Rhodey said, “You know that you’re my best friend, right?”

“I’d have to assume so, honeybear,” Tony said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be in my workshop.”

“Ok, so you trust me right?”

“Of course.”

“Do you realize that you haven’t taken a vacation in, oh. I don’t know,” Rhodey said. “Help me out here Jarvis. How long has it been since Tony has been on a proper vacation?”

Jarvis hummed softly. The sound was oddly hypotonic. “I do not believe Sir has been on a vacation since I have been created.”

Tony stared at Rhodey, flabbergasted. That _couldn’t_ be right. Rhodey had to be wrong – Jarvis had to be wrong, although technically speaking that was impossible – he had taken _plenty_ of vacations! He had plopped his ass down on beaches, drunk fine wine and flirted with half-naked people for days – _weeks_ , even. If _that_ wasn’t a vacation, he didn’t know what was! Hell, he had partied most of his life away when he was younger – _that_ had to count as a vacation at the very least.

“Sir has never taken time off _willing_ ,” Jarvis continued. “Ms. Potts has repeatedly requested that he do so, but even when he has followed her instructions and gone out, he has spent the majority of his time working or catching up on Avengers and or SI business.”

Tony winced. Ok. Maybe Jarvis was right. He hadn’t really done much in the way of relaxing _lately_ ; he almost always had his tablet in hand if he wasn’t outright at a work console and with Extremis in his head, there wasn’t a way to really disengage unless he physically shut it down – and he hadn’t done that for a long time, not since his last virus protection upgrade. He hadn’t wanted to shut Extremis out – didn’t really want to be separated from his work and the online world for too long. It was just so _convenient_ to have Extremis at his fingertips – to have the _world_ the way he wanted it – to have access to _everything_ he needed no matter where or what he was doing.

“Ok,” Rhodey said, his voice soft. “So you get what I’m trying to say _now_ , right?”

“Yes,” Tony grumbled. “I get what you mean, but there’s stuff I have to do – stuff I can’t let drop. It’s got to stay a priority.” He opened his mouth to try and force the words, out, _needing_ Rhodey to get why his work was so important, and found himself shrieking instead as Bucky launched himself through the air and into his belly.

Rhodey let out a piercing laugh.

Tony clutched Bucky to his stomach, steadying the cat as he wheezed out curses. He could feel pinpricks in his thighs and knew at once by the stinging that Bucky had dug his claws in in order to steady himself; he shifted Bucky’s weight, trying not to make the cat compensate for the new movement and let out a low whimper. “If this is your way of telling me to take a vacation, you’re being a jerk about it,” he wheezed at Bucky.

“I’m assuming you survived that,” Rhodey said, nodding to Tony’s lap.

A bead of sweat dripped down the back of Tony’s neck. Bucky lopsidedly circled his lap, letting out a toothy yawn. If Bucky’s aim had been off by even a _fraction_ of an inch, Tony would have found himself in a very _unpleasant_ situation. Tony cleared his throat, and gave Bucky’s back a rough pat. His voice cracked. “I’m pretty sure if Mr. Barnes wanted me suffering, that would have happened,” he said.

“He must really like you then,” Rhodey said with a chuckle.

“Mr. Barnes hasn’t crushed my nuts yet, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he _likes_ me,” Tony said with a snort. He steadied the cat and ran his hand over Bucky’s ears; when Bucky nipped his fingers, he sighed and kept his hands to himself. “It just means he likes that I feed him.”

“Sure,” Rhodey said. He smiled at Bucky and reached out to touch him.

Bucky sank his teeth into Rhodey’s hand.

Rhodey yelped.

“Jarvis,” Tony drawled, gently easing Bucky’s mouth open so Rhodey could pull his hand free, “We did give the Colonel the list of what _not_ to do with Mr. Barnes, did we not?”

“I forwarded the information to the Colonel as requested, sir,” Jarvis said.

Rhodey scowled and rubbed at his hand.

“Hey,” Tony said, shifting in his seat so Bucky could comfortably move from his lap onto the workshop desk beside him, “They’re not _my_ rules. They’re his. If you have a beef with them, take it up with the guy with fur.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rhodey muttered. He gave his hand a shake and glanced over at the War Machine hologram. “So what do you want to do now?”

“Bring War Machine up,” Tony said, nodding to the hologram. “I need to fix the problems with the Gatling Gun if I’m going to put the newest version into production. You know me – I always like having spares around in case the worst happens.”

“I like spares too,” Rhodey said, standing up. He gave Dummy’s arm a gentle pat as he walked past him towards the elevator. “I’ll be back in a bit, buddy. Just let me change my clothes.”

“Take the freight elevator when you bring it up,” Tony called out. “I know you think your suit is slimming, but it’s heavier than it looks.”

“Rude, Stark, that’s just plain rude,” Rhodey grumbled, stepping into the elevator. “And I know. This isn’t my first rodeo, remember?”

Tony smirked. “Remember to tip your valet,” he said.

Rhodey snorted and stepped into the elevator. “You just focus on making my new suit as awesome as possible, Stark. _I’ll_ worry about the valet.”

Tony saluted Rhodey; the elevator door closed with a click.

 

 

Tony watched idly as Rhodey maneuvered War Machine into the open slot in the Armor Cradle, all while trying to avoid stepping on Dummy, the various bots that were trying to scrub the suit down and the equipment nearby; it was a delicate dance, and one Tony was always amused by. The Armor Cradle held the Iron Man armors when they weren’t in use, and acted as both an assembly machine and diagnostic scanner. Through it, Jarvis could see every line of code in the OS, every piece of machinery, and every potential error. The Cradle peeled Rhodey out of War Machine as easily as one might take off a coat.

Bucky turned in a slow circle, watching Rhodey with a suspicious glare, and dropped himself off of the table into Tony’s lap. He settled there, making himself comfortable with his head on Tony’s knee. Tony ran his hand down Bucky’s back, easing the cat’s fur back down. “I know, buddy,” he said, soothingly. “The tech’s kind of scary, but I promise nothing’s going to hurt you.”

“Yeah,” Rhodey said, reclaiming his former chair. “The tech only hurts when it tries to pull your underwear clean up your ass.”

Tony wrinkled his nose at the thought; he had had that happen on more than one occasion in the first suit he had made. Saving his balls and ass from pain had been the first major overhaul he had done when he had redesigned the suit – and the Cradle.

“You’re not exactly denying that your tech can be evil,” Rhodey said with a chuckle.

“That’s because friction burns and unpleasant pinching happens, and they are no laughing matter,” Tony said. He watched the holographic screen beside him, purposely ignoring Extremis’ feeds, as Jarvis went through War Machine’s latest OS to check for outdated data packets.

“I’m hungry,” Rhodey said, pointedly nodding towards the floating hologram beside Tony. “I say we let that run in its own and go grab Pepper. I’m betting she wants some lunch too.”

Tony looked down at his stomach and found himself eye to eye with Bucky. “I don’t know,” he said, slowly. “Mr. Barnes looks _pretty_ comfy where he is.”

“Well my _stomach_ is feeling pretty fucking uncomfortable,” Rhodey drawled. “It’s been what – two hours since we’ve been down here? Three?”

“It has been approximately four hours and ten minutes,” Jarvis said.

“That is _inexcusable_!” Rhodey said. “Give my stomach some _love_ , Tony. Don’t make it eat itself.”

Tony sighed. He ruffled Bucky’s fur. “What do you think, buddy? Is it time for lunch yet?”

Bucky stared up at Tony, his stare dead and lifeless.

“He agrees,” Rhodey said, smiling crookedly. “So let’s do it.”

“Do what?” Tony asked, pursing his lips. Heading out would mean leaving Bucky behind, and he wasn’t so sure he trusted the cat to be alone after what had happened when they had tried to go down to the workshop without him; it seemed _mean_ to just fuck off and leave the poor cat behind while they enjoyed a fabulous lunch – and it would be fabulous, because he owed Rhodey a good time for putting up with his shit over and over again.

“So. Let’s go out for lunch,” Rhodey said. He stood up and gently pushed his chair away. He rested his hands on the back of Tony’s chair and gave it a shake when Tony didn’t immediately respond. “If you’re worried about leaving the damn cat alone, we can just take him with us. There are a bunch of places we can go to that have patios. No one’s going to chase us off – if Iron Man wants to take his spoiled-rotten cat out for lunch, he can do that. I’m pretty sure that’s a thing rich geniuses do these days.”

Tony grinned. “You know, that’s not a half-bad idea.” He stroked a line down Bucky’s back and gave the cat’s tail a gentle tug. “Think he’ll behave for us?”

“He’ll behave,” Rhodey said, scowling down at Bucky with his best no nonsense expression – the one he used mainly on new recruits. “If he knows we’re going out to get tasty, tasty food, he’ll behave. You saw him with the waffles.”

“Hopefully waffles aren’t the exception to the rule,” Tony said, pursing his lips. “What do you say, Mr. Barnes? Come to lunch with us?”

Bucky let out a long suffering sigh.

“Ok,” Tony said. “He’s agreed formally – now what.”

“I’m assuming we’re taking Pepper with us,” Rhodey drawled.

“That’s a given,” Tony said.

“Ok. So do we tell Pep we’re bringing a guest? Or do we just show up with Mr. Barnes in tow?” Rhodey said. He drummed his fingers on his chin thoughtfully, looking down at Bucky’s cast. “I mean we’ve got to smooth some details out before we leave. Obviously, we need to transport your furry friend, but we also need to figure out how to control him. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be the guy who loses Captain America’s cat.”

“Same,” Tony said with a shudder. He wouldn’t even want to be in the same state with Steve if he had to tell him something had happened to Bucky. Hell, he wouldn’t want to be on the same _planet_.

“Should we bring him food? Or get some there?” Tony asked, after a minute of quiet contemplation.

“I’m sure we can get them to make something cat-friendly,” Rhodey said.

“Alright. So transport, then,” Tony said. He hummed softly. “Well, it isn’t like we can lose him. I’m pretty sure he’s not going anywhere without help.” He looked down at Bucky and drummed his fingers between Bucky’s ears. The cat peered up at Tony, his expression disdainful and weary. “I bet we can carry him. He’s big, but if we put him down he shouldn’t take up too much space on a table,” Tony said. “Would you like that? Do you want to take a nice trip out for food, buddy?”

Rhodey snorted. “If only the paparazzi could see you now – I can just see the headlines. _Crazy Man Coos at Cat so Much Cat Tries to Eat Man’s face._ ”

“Very funny,” Tony grumbled. “We both know it wouldn’t be _Crazy Man_ – it would be _Crazy Eccentric Genius Tony Stark_. Get it right.”

“Sorry,” Rhodey snickered.

“Get your head back in the game, Rhodey-bear,” Tony said. “At the very least it would be _Crazy Asshole Billionaire Tony Stark_.”

“Sure,” Rhodey said. “Ok – so dogs have leashes. Do leashes work on a cat? That’s one weird question.”

“Leashes? No, I don’t think a leash attached to a collar would do it for our big boy – not that he’s wearing a collar yet. Mr. Barnes seems like a squirmer, and I’d rather not take any chances,” Tony said. “Now a harness – I could see a harness working. I don’t really want to lug that cat carrier around with me unless I absolutely have to. Happy can pick something up at the store for now. I can always build Mr. Barnes a better harness if he behaves himself.”

“Good,” Rhodey said, grinning down at Bucky. He moved quickly, poked the tip of Bucky’s nose with his index finger and danced away when the cat swatted at him. “I’ll take care of Pepper – you get your cat-friend ready for lunch.”

Tony stood up, gently cradling Bucky against his chest like he would a baby. When Bucky glared up at him, he booped Bucky in the nose and turned around, pushing his chair in with his hip. “Jarvis – tell Happy to go get some cat harnesses – a size large and a size extra-large should do it, just in case we need to upsize – and head on over here. Ask him how long he thinks it’ll take.”

“Done, sir,” Jarvis said. “He requests thirty minutes to locate an appropriate pet store. I will inform you when he arrives.”

Rhodey pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Pepper’s number. He led the way to the elevator, waiting patiently while the phone rang. “Let me work my magic,” he said.

“Feel free,” Tony said. He followed Rhodey into the elevator. “Alright, Mr. Barnes. Let’s go get you ready for lunch.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony, Rhodey and Bucky head out to meet Pepper for lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if there is any weird grammar or typos and I'll fix it! Thanks for reading!

Tony adjusted Bucky’s harness for a third time and was pleased with the results; Bucky wasn’t as pleased with the harness – or his Grumpy T-shirt – as Tony was, but he didn’t seem bothered enough to want to wiggle his way out of it yet. The harness was padded and black, and went all the way around Bucky’s scruffy body where it sat snug against Bucky’s torso with a looped handle along Bucky’s back so he could be picked up; it was a little bit like a backpack without the actual pack and while it hadn’t been designed for an animal with only one front leg, it was doing a good job of keeping itself in place without putting excessive pressure on Bucky’s stump. Tony could make something far better, of course, but for now, it would do.

It had only taken Happy fourty minutes to track the harness down at the nearest pet shop, which Tony was pretty sure was a new record considering how big the store had been and how heavy the traffic normally was.

Tony hadn’t really minded the wait; in fact, he would have been ecstatic if he had a few _more_ minutes to procrastinate. He felt jittery, like he had chugged a full pot of espresso and sugar, and even though he, Rhodey and Bucky were safely stashed in the back of his most discrete, low-key, four door sedan he worried that they might be spotted by the press.

Happy checked his mirrors and turned around. “Ready to go Boss?” he asked. “We’re headed to Spud’s Burgers, right?”

“That’s the place,” Rhodey said. “Let’s get going. Pepper’s already there and I’m betting she’s not in the mood to wait.”

 

Tony patted Bucky’s head as Happy pulled over and parked. So far, things were quiet. No one had followed them from the Tower’s underground parking, and while there had been a small group of people waiting around on the street trying to get pictures, there hadn’t been anyone he recognized from the big tabloid chains lurking on the sidewalk. No one had come screaming down the street after them with a protest sign, so he was fairly certain they had escaped scrutiny. It was a pleasant change of pace.

Tony couldn’t wait to hear what Pepper had done with SI’s legal team under her command; if he had to bet, he’d say Fox News was not going to enjoy their year – or the next one after that.

“Do you want me to stick around, boss?” Happy asked, killing the engine. He cracked his knuckles. “I’m up for a little punching if you need it.”

Tony shrugged. He was antsy as hell, but he didn’t want to draw attention to it by getting Happy to stick around. It was one thing to have a bodyguard, and another to have that bodyguard prowling around behind you every second of the day. “I think we’re good, but do me a favor and don’t go too far away. If we need the cat carrier,” he said, looking down at Bucky, who glared petulantly up at him, “then we’ll need to haul it out of the trunk because I really don’t want to carry that piece of crap around with us.”

“Got it,” Happy said, clicking his tongue and giving Tony a thumbs up. “Give me a call when you want to head on home.” He rolled up the windows and waited patiently as Tony and Rhodey got out before starting the car up again and driving slowly away.

Tony hugged Bucky close, keeping the harness’s handle firmly in hand. It was suddenly a whole new world; he hadn’t felt this concerned while walking around since his last kidnapping all those years ago, when everything and everyone had seemed faceless and cold. It was strange to have Bucky here, in his arms. He had never taken an animal of his own outside before – he hadn’t really had one to take out, considering Peggs had abhorred loud noises. He had babysat Happy’s dog before, Mooch, but Mooch was the kind of dog that did very little and reacted to even less; their trips outside had been uneventful, slow and methodical. They had looked for trees to pee on and nice clean patches of cement to take a crap on – nothing had been out of the ordinary, and Mooch hadn’t been in a hurry to escape. Not that Bucky looked willing to escape either – the cat seemed just as anxious as Tony, although he was hiding it by keeping his face buried in Tony’s shirt.

Tony looked around, eyeing the crowd as people streamed past them. Was there danger here? Could they lose Bucky to the seemingly unending throng of people? Could Bucky get hurt? He cursed himself for not having had this conversation with himself before they had left the house, and kept walking, forcing his legs to move on autopilot.

Rhodey put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I can see Pep from here,” he said, pointing over at the fenced off patio outside of Spud’s Burgers. “Deep breaths – relax – we’re doing fine. We’re almost there. Just a few more steps – you can do it.” He guided Tony over to the square metal gate where a waitress was waiting to seat guests, his hand resting on Tony’s shoulder the entire time. The waitress was someone they knew. Mindy, a tall Korean woman with long dyed red hair, had been Tony and Pepper’s server at least a dozen times already this year. She smiled at them when she realized who they were, cheering up considerably when she caught sight of Bucky. “Good afternoon, Mr. Stark,” she said. “That’s a cute friend you’ve got there – and a cute cat.”

“Hello, Mindy,” Tony said. “How’s it going?”

“It’s a nice day to be out,” Mindy said. “It’ll be hard to get a sunburn today – but it’s warm enough to be out on the patio. Did you want a table for two?”

Rhodey grinned. “We’re here to meet a friend,” he said. “She’s already inside.”

“Ah, well, go on in. Do me a favor, and make sure you tell your server you’ve got a cat with you,” Mindy said, turning to a group of four elderly men as they approached her. She smiled widely. “Hello everyone! Welcome to Spud’s Burgers!”

Tony and Rhodey weaved their way through the tables on the patio; they were both far too used to grabbing attention unintentionally when they were out in public, even when it was just heading out to grab a bite to eat, and over the years they had gotten very good at watching the crowd for trouble. A little girl grinned up at them as they passed, recognizing Tony; Tony grinned back, hiding his internal terror under his best PR face. So far, it looked like no one was giving the Fox News reporter’s crackpot story a second though. Or maybe everyone here had missed the news that morning.

The trip was longer than expected, but worth it. Pepper had been given one of the biggest tables on the patio, one that had more than enough room for an extra furry occupant. The tree behind her gave them just the right amount of shade. Pepper was dressed in a fuchsia fit-and-flare dress; her black jacket was hanging off the back of her chair. She cocked an eyebrow when she saw Bucky, and swirled her lemon water in her glass. “I see you brought your houseguest along for the ride,” she said.

“I brought the cat too,” Tony said, sitting down across from Pepper. He set Bucky down on the table in front of him as Rhodey settled into the chair beside Pepper, pleased to be out of the public eye. He knew that Rhodey would watch the road for them; Rhodey always did. It was something Rhodey had picked up while being out on tour in the desert. These days, Rhodey never seemed to be able to lower his guard for more than a few minutes when he was outside.

“You two look calmer than I was expecting,” Pepper said, pushing a menu towards Tony.

“We hide our murderous rage well,” Rhodey said with a shrug.

“Clearly,” Pepper said with a smile. “The lawyers told me to make sure you’re out and in the public eye after this morning. I would have suggested it even if they hadn’t, but it’s nice to know I was right.” She pointed at Tony with an elegant finger. “You haven’t been out much since Steve handed you Bucky.”

“Being outside is so overrated,” Tony said.

“Oh?” Pepper cocked her head to the side in amusement. “How so?”

“Well, for one thing,” Tony said, “there’s a lot more _light_ out here than is strictly necessary. I mean really – _come on, sun_. I don’t need this much of you around right now – it’s hard to see. I should have brought sunglasses. I don’t like everything being so fucking bright.”

Rhodey opened up his menu and shook his head. “Oh please,” he said. “Whine more, marshmallow. This isn’t bright – this is dim compared to where I was.”

“Oh, it’s a competition now?” Tony said with a grin.

“It’s _always_ a competition,” Rhodey said, grinning back. “We should have smeared you with sunscreen – you’re going to be toasted and crispy by the time you get back inside.”

“Toasted?” Tony scoffed. “Hardly. I go out in the sun all the time.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll believe it when I see it,” Rhodey said, grinning at Pepper.

“I’m out here right now,” Tony said with a huff. He scowled at Rhodey. “You’re mean – Pepper, make him stop.”

“I’ve missed this,” Pepper said with a laugh. She leaned against the table. “It’s good to see you both outside again. I’m glad you’re back, Rhodey. For a while there I was worried I’d have to wait until Christmas to get the three of us together again.”

“I was thinking the same thing up until some kind soul pulled strings and got my vacation time bumped up.” Rhodey winked at her and flipped a page in his menu, pondering his choices.

Tony cleared his throat and opened his menu. “I guess it’s a good idea to head out every once in a while, huh?”

“At least you have the time right now,” Pepper said. “You’d better enjoy it. I’ve seen our schedules for the next few months and thing are going to be pretty brutal.” She took a sip of her lemon water and scowled at her menu. “The Board is trying their hardest to piss me off – I’m pretty sure that’s what they’ve got written in their agendas for every day this week.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me at all if it was true,” Tony said. He smirked. “You know what? I’m thinking this _was_ a good idea – being out here with the sun and the entire city’s collection of car fumes. It’ll be good practice for Bucky. After this, he’s probably going to be less nervous when I drag him with me to our Board meeting.”

“You’re bringing him with you?” Pepper asked. Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “You know what – I’m _completely_ fine with that. At least it’ll give me something to do while I watch you present your green energy pitch to the Board.”

“I’m presenting _again_?” Tony groused. “Why do I have to present again?”

“You have to present again because you were going to present _last time_ and you didn’t finish,” Pepper said dryly. “Don’t pretend you forgot about that. Captain America’s cat got you out of it last time – this time, you’re going to have to suck it up and dance like a good puppet.”

“Fine. I’ll do your stupid presentation, but I’m not going to like it.” Tony glanced over at Bucky and held out the menu so the cat could look at it. “Any preferences?”

Bucky let out a long, suffering, sigh. He turned a long, slow, circle until he was facing Tony, his back to Rhodey and Pepper, and rested his head on his paws.

“I guess he’s fine with anything,” Rhodey said. He nudged Pepper with his elbow. “So, are you planning on bring your _significant other_ out to meet us anytime soon? Or are we going to have to keep guessing and waiting?”

Pepper nearly snorted her mouthful of lemon water.

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “Really? You thought we didn’t know?” He and Rhodey shared a gleeful look. “She thought we didn’t know!”

Pepper swallowed hard and wiped her mouth on her hand. “I really hate you two sometimes,” she muttered. Her eyes were watering, and her cheeks were faintly pink; it had been a long time since Tony had seen her caught off guard. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“You’re _dating_ someone,” Rhodey said, flipping through the pages of his menu seemingly at random. “It’s not a big deal. It happens to all of everyone someday – we all know how the dance goes. You know we support you no matter who you’re dating, right?”

“Assuming that it’s not someone we don’t like,” Tony said, still scanning his menu. He peeked up over top of the menu when Pepper didn’t say a word and saw that Pepper was scowling at him.

“He’s kidding,” Rhodey said, frowning at Tony.

“Of course I’m kidding,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “What kind of a jackass do you think I am?”

Pepper sighed, resting her head in her hands, her elbows propped up on the edge of the table. She blew a stray strand of hair out of her face. “Look,” she said. “While I would love to introduce you two, I just don’t think she’s got the time to drop by right now.”

“Natasha’s out on a mission with _Steve_ , Pepper,” Tony drawled. “Of course she doesn’t have time. We can wait until she’s back – obviously we’re not going to force her to back out of some super-secret mission just to have lunch with her and give her the shovel talk.”

Pepper froze, her mouth half-open.

“ _Oh, oh_ ,” Rhodey said, grinning. “I think you broke her.”

Pepper’s voice cracked. “How did you – Natasha though we were – Jarvis swore he wouldn’t –” she sputtered.

Tony snorted. “Pepper, _sweetheart_ ,” he said, trying not to laugh. He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Maybe try not wearing the _exact_ same type perfume she does when you spend the night at my place?” He tapped the side of his nose. “It’s kind of obvious when all of a sudden you start smelling like our favourite assassin.”

Pepper slumped against the table with a muffled groan. “You didn’t say anything before,” she muttered. “When the hell did _you_ get so good at recognizing perfume?”

“I’ve been good at that for a while,” Tony said with a chuckle. “Why do you think so many of my dates left with just a kiss on the cheek?” He grimaced. Some of the women he had invited up to the penthouse to spend the night had smelled far too floral and cloying for his delicate nose to handle; he had had to have Happy air his car out on at least five separate occasions. Some people just didn’t get that perfume was supposed to make you smell _good_ – not like a walking rosebush of fiery doom.

“But why didn’t you just _say_ something to me then?” Pepper asked, nearly knocking her glass over as she flailed at Tony.

“I wanted to let you figure out what you wanted to do before I said anything,” Tony said. He had known about Pepper and Natasha’s change in relationship for a lot longer than he let on; he had known for a week before he had let it slip to Rhodey a month ago, and had been nervous as hell about broaching the subject ever since. The image of Natasha appearing in his bedroom in the middle of the night wearing a pair of steel toed boots with the intent to stomp on his squishy parts had haunted his dreams. Thankfully, Natasha had been in and out of the Tower on missions and they hadn’t had much contact – at least not in real life. He was proud that he hadn’t accidentally spilled anything; it had been damn hard not to say something to Jarvis – and that had been the safest person to talk to about it.

Rhodey chuckled. “Honestly, Pep. You didn’t think we’d be clueless _forever_ , did you?” He shook his head. “We’re not trying to give you shit. I know you like your privacy and all – we don’t blame you for keeping it a secret.”

“And you decided to spring this on me _here_?” Pepper said, lifting her head. Her lips twitched; she smiled softly and let out a huffed sigh. “Alright, fine. I _might_ not have been trying my hardest to keep it a secret – I’ll admit to that much.”

“Oh yeah, sure,” Rhodey said. “Take away our clever deductions and pretend like we didn’t work hard on figuring it out.”

Pepper picked up her menu and flipped to the third page. “Yeah, yeah.”

Tony and Rhodey shared a relieved smile. This was good; they hadn’t messed up.

“Alright,” Rhodey said. “So – food.”

“Yes, food. Food is good.” Tony tapped at his menu, trying not to shudder at the image of what Natasha’s murderous rage might have looked like if they had made Pepper upset. He turned to Bucky. “Do we want a mushroom burger with extra cheese?” he asked Bucky, drumming his fingers on the top of the cat’s head, right between his ears.

Bucky opened one eye and glared at Tony before closing it again.

“Ok. Mushroom burger it is,” Tony said.

“I think I’m having the Squid Burger today,” Pepper said.

Tony mock gasped.

Rhodey scowled. “Aw, not the _Squid Burger_.”

“You brought this upon yourself, Rhodes,” Pepper said, her voice sing-song. She smiled when their server, a tall blonde man with short, feathery hair, approached their table; she looked completely calm as she wiggled her fingers to summon the man closer. “We’re ready to order.”

“You have a cat on your table,” their server said, blinking slowly. He didn’t look at them at all; he seemed focused on Bucky, as though he had never seen a cat before in his life. “Why do you have a cat on your table?” he asked.

“ _How did that get there_?” Tony said, squinting at Bucky. “Who are you and how did you end up sitting beside me!” He poked Bucky in the shoulder.

Bucky glared at Tony and let out a disgruntled meow.

Pepper turned to their server, smiling politely. “We brought him with us because we wanted to have lunch together. I promise, he won’t be any trouble. He’s very well behaved,” she said.

“And so is the cat,” Rhodey said.

The server smiled nervously, looking around the table in confusion. He swallowed hard when his gaze settled on Tony. “I’m sure he is, but I think I’m going to have to talk to my manager,” he said with a squeak.

“Sure,” Tony said. “Feel free.”

Their server spun around and bolted for the door, colliding with another server, a teenage girl who had been nervously trying to fill up a pitcher of lemon water with the perfect amount of lemon slices. He didn’t slow down to apologize; he left her standing there, soaking wet, her pitcher spinning in a lazy circle on the floor.

Bucky’s head jerked up at the sudden bang; he turned, staring intently at the server and then began to scan the rest of the patio, looking uneasy. Tony ran his hand down Bucky’s back, but even his touch couldn’t get the cat to settle back down again. Bucky looked ready to bolt if necessary; he hadn’t lifted his bulk up from the tabletop yet but his muscles were tense.

Pepper winced. “Maybe I should have gone to talk to the manager on my own,” she said, setting her glass down. “That poor girl looks like she got run over – I hate when people do things like that to servers.”

Rhodey rolled up his sleeves. “I got this,” he said, moving to stand up.

“It’s alright, Rhodey. I’ll take care of it,” Pepper said. She stood slowly, smoothing out her dress before carefully pushing back her chair and walking over to the wet server. The girl looked close to crying as she tried to clean herself up. Pepper knelt down beside her and murmured softly to her while helping her sop up the mess with what had once been a pile of clean aprons. With the extra help, the server seemed to recover a little of her strength.

“Pepper’s good with kids,” Tony said, shifting in his seat to watch as Pepper patted the server’s shoulder. He kept his hand on Bucky’s back, tangling his fingers lazily in the harness.

Out on the street, a car backfired.

Bucky glanced around, his eyes narrowed, and turned his attention to the world outside the metal fence. He stiffened a little further and then ducked down, as though hiding himself under Tony’s hand. He let out a tired snort and pawed at the side of his face with his front paw.

Pepper headed over to the main building, disappearing inside the restaurant with a stern expression on her face – one Tony had only ever seen when Pepper was absolutely furious. Someone was about to be torn a new one.

Tony smiled and gave Bucky’s cheek a gentle scratch, pushing the cat’s paw out of the way so he could reach the itchy spot; Bucky melted under his touch and returned to his lax, flopped, position on the table with his eyes half-lidded.

“Pepper’s had enough practice – she _should_ be good with kids by now,” Rhodey grunted. “She’s been dealing with _our_ shit for years.”

Tony snorted and took a sip of water.

When Pepper returned, it was with their server and his manager in tow. She looked like she had grown a good three inches since she had been gone; she towered above the two men following her as she made her way over to their table and while she looked confidant, she did not look cheerful.

Tony grinned and saluted Pepper with his water. “I see you’ve returned victorious,” he said.

Pepper smiled thinly. “Mr. Devonshire has agreed to let Bucky stay so long as he doesn’t leave a mess. Any damages that occur will be paid for out of your pocket,” she said. “He has also _generously_ decided to give his newest server a paid day off because _someone_ knocked a pitcher of water on her.” She turned, and glared ever-so-slightly at their server. Their server cowered a little under the full force of her gaze and clutched his order-taking notebook closer to his chest as though it might protect him.

Mr. Devonshire, the manager, was a balding man wearing an impeccable pinstripe suit and overly polished black shoes. He smiled at them, baring his teeth in a way that was ever-so-slightly threatening. He stood beside their table as Pepper sat down and clasped his hands together. “Let me assure you, having your cat here is absolutely _fine_ , Mr. Stark – it’s no trouble at all. We’ve always been a fan of yours, and we wouldn’t dream of asking you to leave over something so easily remedied. Please, feel free to make yourself completely at home. We’ll bring out some cooked chicken for your furry friend just as soon as it’s ready.” He turned to their server.

The poor server looked like his knees had been turned to rubber; he was swaying where he stood.

Mr. Devonshire smiled grimly. “And this time, I’m sure your server will do a _much_ better job now that he knows everything is perfectly fine,” he said through his teeth.

Their server gulped and nodded rapidly. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Mr. Devonshire growled. He turned, nodding respectfully to Pepper, Tony and Rhodey and strode over to the teenage server. He murmured something to her, something she was happy to hear judging by the look of wonder on her face, and returned inside the restaurant looking very pleased with himself.

Their server approached the table nervously, as if it was covered in fire ants. “Are you ready to order?” he rasped.

Pepper tapped her menu. “I’d like the squid burger with house salad as the side, some calamari and a lemonade,” she said.

The server scribbled madly and turned to Rhodey, swallowing hard. “And you, sir?”

“I’ll take the Double Moo-Cheese-Oink with fries, a vanilla milkshake and an order of honey-garlic chicken wings,” Rhodey said. He squinted at Tony, as if daring him to say something.

Tony smirked and watched as their server scribbled away again.

The server turned slowly; he was smiling now, but the sweat dripping down the side of his face made it clear that he was barely holding it together.

“I’ll have a caramel milkshake, a Mushroom burger with extra cheese and fries and a side order of onion rings,” Tony said.

Their server cleared his throat. “So that’s a squid burger with salad as the side, calamari, lemonade, a Double Moo-Cheese-Oink with fries, a vanilla milkshake, an order of honey-garlic chicken wings, a caramel milkshake, a Mushroom burger with extra cheese, fries and a side order of onion rings,” he said. “Is that all?”

Tony pursed his lips. “What do you think Mr. Barnes? Do you want anything special?” he asked, turning to Bucky.

Bucky sighed again and leaned forwards, resting his head on the menu, looking bored.

“I think we’re good to go,” Pepper said to their server. “Thank you.”

Their server jerked away from the table and this time carefully avoided everyone else before flying into the restaurant. Once he was out of sight, Pepper leaned forwards against the table with a grimace. “I really wish the manager hadn’t felt the need to come out here,” she muttered, gnawing on inner cheek. “I was hoping to keep things nice and quiet, but he insisted on coming out and personally apologizing after he heard about Bucky.”

Tony frowned. “You think he had a reason for putting on a show?”

“I think he’s just brown-nosing because he wants good publicity,” Pepper said, glancing over her shoulder at the door. “If there was a worse reason for him dragging himself out here, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have disappeared so fast – he seems like the kind of man who gloats over his victories, no matter how petty.”

“There are a few extra people on the street now,” Rhodey said, softly, peering at the fencing around the patio. He was the tallest among them, aside from Pepper and her heels, and always used it to his advantage when they were sitting down. He shifted in his seat so he could see more of the street, and kept one hand curled around his glass of lemon water, ready to use it as a weapon if necessary. “I’d hate to have to break someone’s expensive camera and or phone today.”

“It’s probably fine,” Tony said. He turned around, following Rhodey’s gaze. Sure enough, someone had noticed them; he saw the flash before he saw the camera, but when his vision cleared he relaxed. The woman holding up her phone – the one who had taken the picture – looked excited and apologetic. She was hanging off the fence, likely standing on the tips of her toes in order to see over it. “Sorry! I just wanted a picture for my son,” she called out. “I forgot I had the flash on.”

“Not a problem,” Tony yelled back.

The woman grinned, gave Tony a thumbs up and vanished behind the fence.

Rhodey ground his teeth and took a sip of his lemon water. “I really wish people wouldn’t do shit like that,” he said.

“Sadly,” Tony said, stroking Bucky’s soft fur, “I don’t think it’s ever going to stop.”

Rhodey glanced around at the other customers on the patio, glaring every time someone looked like they were reaching for their phone. “You’d think they’d get the whole privacy thing,” he said. “But I guess they don’t have to live with thousands of pictures of them floating around the internet.”

 

When their food arrived, Rhodey’s mood improved. He attacked his chicken wings with gusto, licking his fingers after every few bites, grinning at Tony when he saw Tony eyeballing his food.

Tony wasn’t the only one watching Rhodey’s food. The minute the plate of chicken wings hit the table, Bucky perked up and started sniffing the air, his eyes zeroing in on Rhodey’s plate. Tony’s onion rings were of no interest; Pepper’s calamari was apparently just as unappetizing.

Rhodey smirked as Bucky slowly stood up. “I see your fuzzbutt thinks he’s going to get some of my chicken wings,” he said.

Tony chuckled. “He must have figured out you’re a softie,” he said.

“Damn cat,” Rhodey said with a weary sigh. He tore up a piece of chicken, making each piece small and cat-friendly, and held a handful out to Bucky.

Bucky hesitated for a split second and lunged forwards, nearly upending Tony’s plate of onion rings in his haste to get at Rhodey’s offering. He picked each piece of honey garlic chicken up delicately as though he was lifting up flower petals and when he was finished eating, sniffed at Rhodey’s hand as though sure there was more hiding somewhere.

“I think I should feel honored,” Rhodey said, when Bucky started licking his thumb.

“You probably should,” Pepper said. She pouted. “All he does is bite _me_. Look how cute that is!”

“To be fair, the only other time he’s come near Rhodey, he tried to take a chunk out of his hand so you’re witnessing a miracle right now,” Tony drawled, picking up an onion ring. He dipped it in the sweet chili sauce the onion rings had come with and took a bite, letting out a blissful groan. “I’ve missed you onion rings – why did we ever part?”

“We all have,” Pepper said, leaning over her plate. She traded one of his onion rings for one of her calamari rings and dipped her onion ring in the sweet chili sauce with a satisfied smile. She ate it in two bites, and let out a burp, which she didn’t bother masking with her hand. “I hate how good grease tastes. This stuff should be illegal.”

Tony smiled and picked up the calamari ring; he popped it into his mouth and tried not to drool over how wonderfully deep fried everything was. This was a real treat. Normally Pepper was all in favor of healthy food, but after dealing with the media and lawyers all day, it wasn’t a surprise that she wanted something heavier than usual. The squid burger – and calamari rings – were things she only ever ordered when she was feeling especially drained and deserving of a break. Rhodey hated the smell of seafood with a passion, but he put up with it if it meant Pepper felt a little bit better.

Their empty appetizer plates disappeared with their server’s help and were replace by their entrees and drinks; Bucky seemed disappointed when the server brought over a plate of cooked chicken that _wasn’t_ smothered in honey garlic sauce. He pawed at the plate for a moment, pushing the food around and then turned his attention to Tony’s burger, licking his lips.

“Oh look,” Rhodey said. “I think you’ve got a friend again.”

Tony sighed wearily. He was starting to think he’d never get to eat in peace again, but if sacrificing some cheese and beef to Bucky meant getting some alone time with his burger, he would do it. He broke off some of the burger patty and set it down on the plate beside the chicken. “Here – now leave me alone.”

Bucky spun in a lazy circle, his tail nearly finding its way into Tony’s milkshake, and stuck his face in his plate. Once he started eating the bits of burger and cheese, he didn’t seem to want to stop; he moved on to the chicken, although he didn’t appear to enjoy it as much and started hoovering it up.

Tony plucked cat hairs from the side of his milkshake glass and sighed in contentment. This was good – this was better than what he had expected after this morning’s worldwide defaming. Normally he avoided watching Fox News entirely, but sometimes it was a good idea to take a look at what they were doing just to keep ahead of the perpetual train-wreck that was Fox. Still, he sort of wished he hadn’t let Rhodey turn the TV on that morning; sometimes it was nice to remain oblivious.

“So,” Rhodey said as he finished half of his burger. He set aside a chunk of bacon and some of the cheese-smothered burger for Bucky before setting his burger down. “How’s the whole lawsuit thing going, Pep?”

Pepper took a bite of her burger and shrugged.

“It’s going that good, huh?” Tony said, steering Bucky’s tail away from his milkshake again.

“It’s complicated and none of your business,” Pepper said, wiping mustard from her upper lip. “You don’t get find out until it’s finished, remember?”

Tony scowled. “You’re _really_ going to keep it from me?”

“We really, really are,” Pepper said. “And I’ve told Jarvis to lock you out of my files, so don’t bother doing any digging. I’m serious – this is going to be a good surprise.”

“This surprise of yours better come with cake,” Tony grumbled. He plucked more of his burger from the bun and set it down on Bucky’s plate before the cat could turn around and beg him for more. “Rhodey promised me cake.”

“That is a _blatant_ lie,” Rhodey said.

Tony scowled.

“There will be cake,” Pepper said, stabbing her fork into her salad. “There will be _plenty_ of cake, don’t worry. All the Avengers will be invited to your special We-Hate-Fox-News party.”

“Aha!” Tony crowed, pointing at Pepper with his burger. “So this involves the Avengers!”

Rhodey cocked an eyebrow. “Did she say that? I didn’t hear her say that. She said the Avengers would be invited – not that they were helping her out.”

Tony couldn’t keep himself from pouting. “This isn’t fair. I’m a genius – this is mean. You shouldn’t be keeping things from me.”

“Well, sadly, life isn’t fair,” Pepper said, taking a sip of her lemonade. “By the way, Mr. Barnes has his face in your milkshake.”

Tony’s scowl deepened. Sure enough, Bucky had his face buried in Tony’s milkshake glass and he was licking everything he could get his tongue near. There wasn’t much milkshake left, but that wasn’t stopping the cat or slowing him down. There was cat hair everywhere, and the drink was now unsalvageable, yet what worried Tony the most was Bucky suffocating in the glass. There couldn’t possibly be enough air in the glass. “You traitor!” Tony said, trying to ease the milkshake glass away from Bucky. “I gave you my food and this is how you repay me?”

“Hey!” Rhodey said, looking down at his plate in horror. “He stole the burger bits and bacon I left for him! When the hell did he get over here?”

Pepper frowned. “Why is there cat hair stuck to my – oh dear god,” she said, looking at her salad. “That bastard ate my croutons!”

Tony burst out laughing. He clutched his sides, tears welling in his eyes. He watched, mesmerized and terribly amused as Bucky continued to clean out the inside of his milkshake glass with his little pink tongue. Oh dear god, he thought as he steadied the milkshake glass. If he didn’t get up and make a mad dash for the bathroom, he was going to piss himself right then and there. He got up, wiping way his tears, and motioned to Bucky. “Watch him? _Bathroom_ ,” he rasped.

Pepper nodded, smiling bemusedly. “Ok. Have fun.”

Rhodey chuckled.

Tony snickered as he caught sight of Bucky’s milkshake-sticky face, caught himself dawdling, grimaced and ran for the bathroom as fast as he could.

 

 

Tony had never been so glad to find a bathroom; he was fairly certain that he had been watched the entire time he had run through the restaurant, and boy had that been embarrassing, but at least he hadn’t pissed himself, so it could have been worse. He did his business, cleaned his hands and sauntered out the bathroom door with a grin on his face and a swagger in his step.

When he made it back to the patio, after avoiding a barrage of servers trying to get drinks and food out of the kitchen, he found their table in complete chaos. Bucky was huddled against Pepper’s chest while she daubed at him with a wet napkin, trying in get the milkshake off his fur. He must have dove under her arm to get at her, and as a result, her plate had gone flying. There was salad all over the ground beside their table and salad dressing smeared on the tabletop; the remains of Pepper’s burger was stuck to the backside of a chair across the patio.

Many of their fellow customers had pulled out cameras and were taking pictures, seemingly drawn by the chaos; most were focused Bucky, who looked even more dishevelled than he had when Tony had left, but some of the camera-holders seemed to be watching _Pepper_ as she tried desperately to clean the cat up. Their server was being useful for once – the man crouched on the ground helping Rhodey clean up, although he was doing a kind of piss-poor job of it.

Tony sidestepped his way past Rhodey after reassuring himself that everything was being taken care of and dropped down into his seat. “I see someone was busy making a mess,” he said, glancing over at Bucky and Pepper.

Pepper sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know how he did it,” she said. She rubbed at the patch of sticky fur above Bucky’s left eye and let out a loud, frustrated wail when the tangled fur wouldn’t get any cleaner. Bucky leaned into Pepper’s hand, smearing himself against the wet napkin, trying to help.

“Aww,” Tony said, picking up an unused cloth napkin from the table. He grabbed his glass of water and almost dipped the napkin before he remembered that there was lemon water in it. “Is there any water around that _won’t_ make Mr. Barnes run screaming?” he asked.

Pepper motioned to the glass beside her. “Our server kindly brought water over when he realized the cat tornado had hit,” she said. “Help me. Please. _Dear god, he’s such a mess_.” She waved a hand at Bucky, frantic. “He’s got a piece of lettuce stuck to the side of his _hip_. How the hell did he get lettuce _there_?”

“That’s a very good question,” Tony said, smiling fondly down at Bucky. The cat scowled up at him, and nudged at Tony’s hand with his nose as though telling him to get to work.

Tony dipped his napkin in water and surveyed the work in front of him. Somehow, food had avoided landing on Bucky’s shirt and harness and had instead made its way directly into his fur; it was strange. Together, he and Pepper moved around Bucky’s body, tackling every tangled and sticky patch of fur they could find. The cleaner Bucky got, the more mobile he became; when he was mostly grime-free, he crawled his way back into Tony’s lap and huddled there with his body under the table and his head resting on Tony’s belt buckle. He was damp and his fur was pressed flat against his body, but he looked calm.

Pepper smiled softly and tossed her napkin down onto the table. “I didn’t think we’d ever get him clean.”

Tony chuckled. “You’re lucky I have practice getting engine oil off of me,” he said. “This was _easy_.”

“I’m not sure whether I should be amused or horrified by that,” Pepper said. She glanced around them, trying to look casual about it and slumped in her seat. “I was going to tease Rhodey about his work, but I don’t think that’s a good idea now. I don’t like that there are so many people watching us,” she said. She glanced over at Rhodey and their server, who were now politely arguing over who should clean up the rest of the mess. “We should get dessert and coffee somewhere else before I have to head back to work,” Pepper murmured.

“Good idea,” Tony said. There were a few decent cake shops around, and they were always worth a visit. It figured, though; just when he sat down, he had to get up again. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and nudged Bucky gently to get the cat’s attention. “Ok, buddy. As much as I’d love to sit here and cuddle you forever, I’ve got to pay the bill, so you’re going to need to go sit with Pepper again, alright? Try not to get yourself covered in crap again while I’m gone, alright?” He waited for the cat to clamber up onto the table before getting up and heading back inside to find a hostess with a credit card reader.

He tipped generously, making sure all the staff would get fifty dollars for their trouble.

When he got back to their table, bill in hand, he found Bucky curled up in Pepper’s arms; she was using his back as a headrest as she tried to drown out Rhodey and their server. She didn’t look up when Tony approached. Bucky continued to stare at the back of Rhodey’s head and their server, looking just as surely as ever.

Tony leaned over Pepper’s shoulder from behind her chair. “So I take it they’re working things out _politely_?” he asked, his lips quirking at the sides.

Pepper groaned into Bucky’s fur.

“Hey, Rhodey?” Tony called out.

“Yes?” Rhodey said, smiling at their server with what Tony was fairly certain was the creepiest smile he had ever seen. Clearly, their server had done _something_ , although from what Tony could see, nothing had actually happened. He was going to have to grill Rhodey about it later.

“The bill’s paid. Let’s head on out,” Tony said. “Do me a favor, will you? Help me pick out a place to get dessert.”

Rhodey cleared his throat and stood up, dusting off his knees. He glared at a piece of lettuce and flicked it away. “Alright,” he said. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “I think I can manage that.”

Their server went back to cleaning up the remains of Pepper’s meal, sighing to himself as though it was the most difficult task he had ever undertaken. He glanced up at Tony every few seconds as he plucked strands of lettuce from the cement.

Tony kept his gaze on Pepper and their table. He wiggled his fingers at Bucky. “Come on Mr. Barnes,” he said. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Pepper lifted her head when Bucky started to struggle out from under her. She let out a huffed breath and fixed her hair, carding her fingers through it until it was somewhat presentable again.

Bucky hobbled over to Tony and allowed himself to be hoisted up. He sat with his nose pressed against the side of Tony’s throat, curling in Tony’s arms.

Rhodey shook his head as they made their way out of the patio, his gaze glued to his phone. “There are too many choices out here,” he said. “I never thought I’d get tired of choices.”

“If you want I can pick something and you can suffer in silence,” Pepper said, linking arms with Rhodey.

He grunted and handed her his phone. “You know what? That sounds like a good idea. Let’s do that.”

 

 

Tony watched through the window as Pepper picked up their order at Simply Sugar’s till. This was Pepper’s favourite cake and coffee shop; he hadn’t visited it in person before, but he had stolen her leftovers before, and damn near everything had been good. He sighed, leaning against the window with Bucky sitting on his shoulder.

“ _Sighing_ isn’t going to make dessert get here any faster,” Rhodey said with a growl, poking at his phone.

“Hey, that’s the price you pay for sweet, fluffy, goodness,” Tony said. He turned away from the window when he saw Pepper heading over to a table piled high with sugar packets and canisters of creamer. It wouldn’t be long now; Pepper knew exactly how everyone took their coffee and she moved damn fast when she was in a rush to get at cake – that’s how she and Rhodey had become fast friends all those years ago. They had collided head first while trying to grab the last slice of cake – ironically, for Tony.

“So,” Tony drawled, shifting Bucky so the cat was in his arms instead of on his shoulder. “What was that about by the way?”

“What was _what_ about?” Rhodey said, not looking up from his phone.

“You and our server at Spud’s,” Tony prompted.

“What about me and that asshole?” Rhodey grunted.

“Well, you two were being awfully _polite_ ,” Tony said, scratching at the back of Bucky’s neck, just above the cat’s shoulder blades. Bucky let out a half-meow, half-groan and leaned into Tony’s touch.

“It’s nothing,” Rhodey said, tersely.

“I call _bullshit_ ,” Tony said, his voice sickeningly sweet.

Rhodey sighed and lowered his phone. “Look,” he said. “I just didn’t like the way he was making eyes at you the entire time he was serving us.”

“Huh?” Tony squinted at Rhodey. Was this a trick? Because normally he was pretty good at picking up on when people were trying to get in his pants – even when he was distracted by food and company. Had he really missed something that big?

“Something didn’t feel right about it, that’s all,” Rhodey said. He held his phone out.

“Why are you giving me your phone?” Tony asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Just take it,” Rhodey said.

Tony took Rhodey’s phone and peered down at it. A google images search was open and the words ‘Tony Stark Cat’ had been typed in.

“Is there a reason why you’re googling me?” Tony asked. “I mean I know I’m probably trending on Twitter right now, but you’re _right_ here. You don’t need to google me to see me.”

“Hit search, jerk,” Rhodey growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tony hit search. He frowned. Not a single image was of him sitting on the patio at Spud’s Burgers; everything he found was fan art. Someone had done a sketch of him with a random cat. There were a bunch of random photoshops of him _as_ a cat. There was even a 3d model of an Iron Man suit with cat ears and a tail. That one was _weird_ , but extremely accurate suit-wise; someone had clearly spent a lot of time staring at Avengers promo photos to get it right. He hit next to see if other pages had what he was looking for, but there weren’t any images of him sitting with Bucky no matter how many pages back he went.

“I don’t like that there aren’t any pictures,” Rhodey said. “But I can’t prove anything funny was going on.” He rolled his shoulders. “I’m being paranoid – it’s probably nothing.”

Tony stroked Bucky’s ears, pursing his lips. “I don’t know if I’d call you paranoid, Rhodey. You’re right – it is extremely weird that there aren’t any pictures up yet. You’d think someone would have tweeted something out already, but there’s nothing there. I mean, we didn’t make a _massive_ scene, but people noticed us,” he said, handing Rhodey back his phone. “Do you think the server was doing something on purpose? You think he was up to no good?”

“I don’t know,” Rhodey said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He stuffed his phone into his pocket. “I know the guy was making bedroom eyes at you, but other than that – and his little fuck up when he saw you – I don’t think he was there to cause trouble. The guy just wanted to hit on you.”

“So the polite arguing was you telling him to fuck off?” Tony asked, grinning.

“That was me telling him to back the fuck off from what I was doing,” Rhodey said, bristling. “I can clean up a fucking plate without help. I can clean up some fucking lettuce without keeling over.”

“Maybe he just wanted an excuse to bend over suggestively in front of our table,” Tony said, waggling his eyebrows.

Rhodey scowled. “You’re lucky it didn’t get to that point.”

“Oh? Why? You got something against strange men hitting on me by suggestively wiggling their assess in my direction while picking up lettuce?” Tony asked, curious.

Rhodey barked out a laugh. “God no,” he said. “Men can wiggle their asses at you whenever they want. I don’t really give a shit about that. I do, however, have a problem when strange men hit on you and wiggle their asses while _I’m_ busy trying to have a nice lunch out with my friends.”

Tony chuckled. “Fair enough,” he said. “There’s a time and a place for that.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Rhodey said. “And while I was there was neither the time, nor the place for him to jiggle his buns in your direction. I get enough of that shit when I’m at work. I’d like to be able to sit down to a meal and not have to see some jackass messing around. I mean I’m not saying he _can’t_ do it – he can spend his entire day bending over in front of you if he wants to – I’m just saying he shouldn’t do it during my Tony-time.”

Tony smiled softly. “Got it. I’ll keep that in mind next time we head out – no suggestive ass wiggling from strangers except if we’re at a strip club or somewhere else appropriate.”

“Thank you,” Rhodey said. “Time and place, man. Time and place.”

“Do you think Pepper noticed what our lovely server was doing?” Tony asked. “Because I sure as hell didn’t.”

“Who do you think told _me_ about it?” Rhodey snorted. “That woman sees damn near everything.”

Tony laughed. He stroked Bucky’s head gently, paying special attention to Bucky’s left ear; the cat snuggled closer to him and buried his nose the crook of Tony’s neck. “You better hope she _can’t_ see everything,” he said.

“Oh please. Like there’s anything I have left in my head that’s worth hiding,” Rhodey said with a smirk.

“Your _work_ might count as a juicy secret,” Tony drawled.

“My work is classified, and Pepper knows I wouldn’t tell her even if I wanted to,” Rhodey said. “And besides, even if I was about to spill the beans, I wouldn’t do it _here_.”

“It is a little crowded,” Tony said. He watched the women and men passing them by, trying to swallow down and bury away a fresh wave of anxiety. With Bucky snuggled so tightly against him, he knew there wasn’t any danger of losing the cat, but a part of him was still whispering about the one thousand and five ways he _could_ lose Bucky if he didn’t pay enough attention.

“So where did you want to eat once Pepper gets back? Home? Pep says she has another hour before she has to head in to work again, so I don’t where to head now.”

“Aside from avoiding all places where there could be possibly suggestive ass wiggling happening,” Tony said.

“Pretty much,” Rhodey said with a sigh. “So where do you think we should go?”

“There’s a park nearby – it’s small. Secluded and there’s some nice benches and good patches of sun,” Tony said. “I think Mr. Barnes will enjoy that – and I know Pep will appreciate the quiet.”

Pepper pushed open the doors beside them. She stepped out, carrying a drink tray with three coffees. A plastic bag with paper plates, plastic knives and forks hung from her free hand. She handed the coffees off to Rhodey when he held his hands out, but kept the plastic bag. “They were out of Chocolate Marble Cake, so I got the Vanilla Mousse,” she said.

“Ooh,” Tony said. “I thought that went out of season already.”

Pepper grinned. “I have my ways,” she said. “So – where are we headed to eat our cake?”

“The park?” Tony said.

“Lead the way,” Pepper said.

 

 

The park wasn’t empty when they arrived, but it was away from traffic and most noise; they arrange for Happy to meet them once the hour was up and found a nice picnic table. Pepper handled the cake while Tony and Rhodey took turns trying to distract Bucky with a long piece of dry grass. The cat looked like he wanted to launch himself face-first into the cake; nothing they did kept his attention for long.

After a few minutes of trying to herd Bucky away from the cake, Tony picked him up and carried him a few feet away. He sat down in the grass under a tree and pulled out his phone. “Alright,” he said to Bucky. “I’ll give you a few conditions and then you can have as much cake as you want.”

Bucky sneezed and stared blankly at Tony.

“Let me take some pictures of you so we can torment Steve with your cuteness, and the cake is yours,” he said.

Rhodey took the paper plate of cake Pepper handed him and grinned. “You’re trying to reason with a cat? Really, Tony?”

Tony sniffed the air when Rhodey blew on his cake and licked his lips; Bucky did the same.

“You’re a weird guy sometimes,” Rhodey said, cutting his cake with his fork. He let out a low moan after the first bite. “You’d better hurry up – this is too good. If you take too long, I’m going to eat your piece too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said. He posed Bucky against the tree and then slowly backed up. He waited for a moment, watching what Bucky would do, his shoulders tense, ready to spring into action if Bucky made a break for it.

Bucky stared grumpily up at Tony but didn’t move. He seemed resigned to his fate.

Tony began taking pictures. The lighting here was soft; the light filtered in through the leaves on the trees, casting shadows on the ground around Bucky as though he was in some kind of mythical forest. Bucky slumped slightly against the tree as Tony moved around him, looking bored, tracking him by sight alone. He shifted a little, giving Tony a good view of his Grumpy shirt when Tony went too far to his left.

“Are you done harassing that cat yet?” Pepper asked. She held out a plate of cake on a plate.

“Almost done,” Tony called out. He took one last picture, catching Bucky as the cat blinked back sleep, and tucked his phone away. He would send the best pictures off to Steve later – right now, cake was more important.

Pepper stepped around the roots of the tree and bent down. She handed Tony the plate of cake. “He looks so peaceful like that,” she said, smiling at Bucky.

Bucky let out a weary sigh and sniffed the air; he perked up with a jerk and rolled himself onto his belly, clambering over to Tony’s leg.

Tony sat down and let Bucky crawl into his lap. He leaned his back against the tree while Bucky crawled up him like he was a human jungle gym, trying to get at the cake. Yawning, Tony slid a finger in the icing along the top of the cake, leaving a sticky ridge behind. He held his finger out to Bucky once the cat was settled on his thigh.

Bucky’s rough pink tongue moved fast. He attached himself to Tony’s finger, taking off the icing one lick at a time. He looked up at Tony, expectantly, when he was finished and licked his lips and whiskers.

“More?” Tony asked.

Bucky nudged Tony’s fingers with his nose.

“Alright,” Tony said, dipping his finger in icing again.

Bucky grabbed Tony’s finger with his good front paw and held on tight, as though afraid Tony was going to pull his hand away. He licked at Tony’s finger again and again, seemingly desperate for icing. When he was finished, he lowered himself back into the v of Tony’s legs and sat with his chin on Tony’s thigh, sighing in contentment.

“You sure you’re done sweetie?” Tony asked. He scooped some of the vanilla mousse out from in-between the layers of cake and offered it to Bucky.

Bucky looked startled by the sight of more food. He sniffed at Tony’s finger, hesitant, and then took a tentative lick at the mousse.

“Good?” Tony said, holding his finger steady.

Bucky started purring. He grabbed Tony’s finger with his front paw again, his polydactyl toes wrapping gently around Tony’s knuckle, and licked up the mousse.

Pepper picked up her jacket and carried it over to the tree beside Tony. She set it down on the grass and went back to the picnic table to get her plate of cake; Rhodey drifted towards them, taking his spot on Tony’s other side. They sighed in unison.

“This is nice,” Rhodey said through a mouthful of cake.

“It really is,” Pepper said with a long, satisfied sigh.

“We should do this more often,” Tony said.

“We really should,” Rhodey said.

Bucky let out a happy snort and settled back into Tony’s lap; the mousse on Tony’s finger was long gone.

Tony picked up his fork and started cutting up his cake. It looked delicious and smelled as good as it looked. He lifted his fork. His phone rang in his pocket with a shrill beep. He sighed and lowered his fork, setting it back on his paper plate and reluctantly reached for his phone. Who the hell was interrupting his cake-time? He didn’t recognize the number, but Jarvis had helpfully provided the caller ID name. It was the vet. Swallowing hard, he answered the phone.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be in three weeks - I'm working on a SteveTonyFest fic, so I won't have as much time. Sorry about the cliffhanger - I swear, it's not something horrible. yet. >:D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phone calls with the vet always stressed Tony out - especially when they had to return a call he had made to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if anything funky is here and I'll fix it!

“Hello?” Tony said. He kept his tone casual, hoping he sounded normal. The vet had sent them on their way with a relative bill of good health – aside from the broken bones and stitches – so there couldn’t be something wrong with Bucky. The blood panel and urine panel had been  _ precautions _ .

“Hello there! Is this Mr. Stark?” a woman’s voice asked.

“This is him, yes,” Tony said. He stroked the top of Bucky’s head.

Pepper and Rhodey shared a glance and frowned at the phone, their cake momentarily forgotten. They leaned closer, trying to overhear Tony’s conversation. Tony sighed and moved the phone away from his face so the others could hear. If they were going to be eavesdropping, they might as well do it without mishearing things.

“Hello, Mr. Stark! This is Tiffany from the Playful Pet Vet office,” the woman said.

“Yeah, I kind of guessed that,” Tony said with a chuckle. “What can I do for you, Tiffany?”

“I’m just calling to book an appointment for you and Bucky,” Tiffany said, her voice bubbly.

“Ah ok,” Tony said. “Right – an appointment. Right. I was wondering when I was going to need to make one.”

“Thankfully Doctor Melody left a note on your file, so we knew to call and check with you,” Tiffany said, brightly. “Will Saturday morning at 9:30 work for you?”

“Do you have anything later in the day?” Tony asked, pursing his lips. He _hated_ early mornings – especially on Saturdays.

“I’m afraid we’re all booked up. 9:30 is the only slot I have, unless you’d like to wait until Sunday instead,” Tiffany said.

“No, no. That’s fine. I’ll take the 9:30 slot. They said they were going to get the results of Bucky’s tests back sometime this week – any idea when that’s going to happen?” Tony asked.

“I have the results right here, actually,” Tiffany said.

Tony tensed as he heard shuffling papers.

“Here we go,” Tiffany said. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Barnes has a clean bill of health. All of his blood work turned out fine and his urine test were clear too. Melody wrote on your file that she wants to check up on the cast and Mr. Barnes’ stitches – that’s pretty much it.”

Tony let out a long, drawn-out breath and slumped against the tree behind him; the bark was rough against his back. Bucky stared up at Tony, his gaze dead and lifeless, before lowering his head back onto Tony’s leg so he could turn his attention to Tony’s unattended plate of cake.

“Ok, good – that’s fantastic news. I’m glad everything’s turned out fine. Thank you for letting me know,” Tony said. “I guess I’ll see you guys on Saturday morning.”

“See you then, Mr. Stark!” Tiffany said. She hung up.

Tony locked his phone and put it in his pocket. He was relieved that things were dealt with – now was as good a time as any for cake.

Pepper and Rhodey smiled at each other and dug back into their cake.

“Well, at least it was good news,” Tony said after a minute.

“The next time the vet calls during our relaxation time,” Pepper said through a mouthful of cake, “please let it go to voicemail.”

“Yeah,” Rhodey said, wiping icing from his chin.

Tony chuckled and cut a piece of cake. He held a little chunk out to Bucky and waited while the cat gobbled it up. “I don’t know if I’d be able to do that,” he said. “I think I’d spend too much time worrying about what I’d missed.”

“Get Jarvis to check the message for you then,” Rhodey suggested. “He’s pretty good at weeding out the garbage from the important stuff.”

Tony paused, fork hovering in front of his mouth. He turned to Rhodey and grinned. “You know, I knew there was a reason why I liked you so much.”

Rhodey snorted. “At least I’m good for something,” he said.

“You’re a good for more than one thing. You’re a good _distraction_ too,” Pepper said, gesturing with her fork to Bucky. “That cat moves really fast.”

Tony looked down at his fork and found it devoid of cake. He glanced down at Bucky, his mouth hanging open. “Goddamn it!”

Bucky licked his lips and whiskers and lowered his head onto Tony’s leg again.

“You think he’s had enough cake yet?” Rhodey asked, cocking an eyebrow. “If he keeps eating like this he’s going to end up a bowling ball with fur.”

“Good point,” Tony grumbled, cutting a new forkful of cake. He squinted at Bucky. “No more cake for you. This is mine, you hear?”

Bucky yawned and closed his eyes, burying his nose in Tony’s stomach.

“See?” Tony said. “He listens.”

“Uh huh,” Rhodey said. “You keep telling yourself that, Stark.”

 

 

 

Pepper was the only one who remained _fully_ awake during the elevator ride back up to SI’s private offices within the Tower. She glared at Rhodey with her hands on her hips when he almost nodded off against the safety railing. They were all drowsy and ready for a nap, but unfortunately for Pepper, there would be no nap in her near future; she would have to wait until she was finished work. “I’ll see you boys later,” Pepper said with a grunt as she walked out of the elevator, her heels clicking. “You two get the privilege of making dinner tonight – I’ll bring salad and dessert.”

“Ok,” Tony said, giving Pepper a lopsided salute. He lounged beside Rhodey, wilting against the wall of the elevator with Bucky nestled against his chest as they waited for the elevator to stop at the penthouse. Shaking himself awake, Tony stepped out of the elevator and put Bucky on the floor. Once the harness came off, Bucky gave himself a full-body shake and made his way into the living room, trotting along with his cast clunking behind him.

Rhodey steered himself towards the nearest couch and collapsed onto it, boneless.

Tony yawned into his arm and looked around, blinking back sleep. He didn’t particularly _want_ to fall asleep on the couch because he knew he would likely roll off of it the moment he woke up. That left him with one other option – the floor. Thankfully, the carpet he had installed in the penthouse was thick and soft. He took a look around to make sure Bucky wasn’t anywhere near him and then dropped down to his knees and flopped down on the floor on his back.

“You’re going to sleep there?” Rhodey mumbled.

“Yep,” Tony said.

“You want a pillow?” Rhodey asked.

“Ok,” Tony said.

Rhodey lifted his arm and felt along the side of the couch until he found a pillow. He tossed it in Tony’s general direction and got him in the side of the head.

“Thanks,” Tony mumbled, eyelids fluttering.

“You’re welcome,” Rhodey said.

Ten minutes later, Tony felt something warm and furry settling beside him on the floor. He didn’t open his eyes; he knew exactly what it was.

 

 

Tony opened one eye lazily and took in the sight of Pepper’s bare foot. He didn’t look up; it would have been rude, and he had a feeling if he accidentally got a look at her underwear while upside down, she would step on his face.

“I take it you two kept yourselves busy,” Pepper drawled.

“Naps are fun,” Rhodey said, his voice muffled by the couch.

Tony lifted an arm and gave Rhodey’s general direction a thumbs up.

Pepper sighed and sat down on the floor beside Tony’s hip. She wiggled her toes, digging them into Tony’s side.

Tony thumped his hand against the floor near Pepper but didn’t have the energy to move away.

“I brought salad and pie,” Pepper said with a yawn. She stretched out, her toes curling and flopped down on the floor beside Tony with a groan. Bucky, trapped between their bodies, lifted his head and stared blankly at her before going back to sleep.

“What kind of salad?” Rhodey asked.

“What kind of pie?” Tony asked.

“I don’t know what the salad’s called. It’s made of spinach and mixed greens. We’ve got blueberries, raspberries and dressing in the fridge – I’ll throw some mixed nuts in there and it’ll be good,” Pepper said. “And the pie is peach.”

“ _Ooh_ ,” Rhodey murmured. “Peaches sound good.”

“It’s not in season though,” Tony said with a yawn. “I bet you went to the _fancy_ store – the one with the organic stuff.”

“I _always_ go to the fancy store,” Pepper said with a snort. “Don’t give me shit about it. You shop there too.”

“True,” Tony said. “But _technically_ it’s Happy that goes in and buys everything so it doesn’t count.”

Rhodey chuckled. “He’s got you there.”

“Jerks,” Pepper said with a grumble.

“Yep,” Tony said. “Your favourite jerks.”

“So what’s for dinner?” Pepper grumbled. “I’m assuming it’s not going to be something heavy because you two are still lying around.”

“We’ve got bagels, lox and cream cheese,” Tony said.

“Ah. That’s a good combination,” Pepper said.

“When do you want to eat?” Rhodey asked.

“In a few minutes,” Pepper murmured.

 

Two hours later Tony woke when Bucky sank his claws into his thigh. He sat up and looked around wildly, trying to figure out why he was in pain, his brain still fogged with sleep. Bucky smacked his pawn against Tony’s leg and looked up at Tony expectantly.

“Holy _shit_ , cat,” Tony said. “Give me a warning next time, huh?”

Bucky stared at Tony, unconcerned by what he had just done.

“What’s up, buddy?” Tony asked, rubbing his thigh. He was probably bleeding. Great.

Bucky continued to stare at Tony.

“Sir,” Jarvis said. “If I might offer a suggestion, I believe Mr. Barnes require the use of his litterbox.”

“He doesn’t know how to find it on his own?” Tony said with a groan.

“You closed the bathroom door when you left for lunch with Ms. Potts,” Jarvis said. “It is a manual door, as you know and I am unable to open it for him. As the others remained asleep despite my repeated attempts to wake them, I believe Mr. Barnes took matters into his own paws.”

Tony chuckled. “Good for him. And people say cats aren’t smart.” He heaved himself onto his knees and stood slowly, letting his muscles adjust to his new position. Extremis had made him stronger, healthier and a technopath, but even it couldn’t keep his back from complaining when he slept on the floor – it just smoothed away the pain a little quicker. He twisted his body to the left and then the right, hearing a satisfying crack. “Alright,” he said, looking down at Bucky. “Do you want me to carry you? Or are you good walking?”

Bucky padded his way across the living room and into Tony’s bedroom.

Tony hurried to keep up.

Bucky stood in front of the bathroom door, glaring at it. He nudged it with his face, trying to get it open on his own and then turned his glare on Tony.

“I know, I know,” Tony said. He opened the door and tried to shoo Bucky out of the way so the little bastard didn’t clock himself in the head, but there was no stopping the cat; he clunked his way through the bathroom and launched himself into the litter box, his back to Tony.

Tony knew a dismissal when he saw one. He went back to the kitchen where he found Rhodey and Pepper puttering about.

Pepper pulled her salad out of the fridge, and tucked the plastic container under one arm. She hummed as she searched through the fridge for the blueberries and raspberries. Tony didn’t know how she still had the energy to sort through things _and_ hum at the same time; she always seemed to reboot after a quick nap and if he hadn’t known that her version of Extremis was dormant, he might have thought she was tapping into it somehow.

“Do you want me to grab the bagels?” Tony asked, lurking beside the fridge door. He plucked the container of spreadable cream cheese from the fridge before he could lose track of it and glanced over Pepper’s shoulder, trying to spot the lox and instead found the blueberries and raspberries. He took them out and carted them over to the kitchen table.

Pepper pulled a bottle of honey Dijon dressing from the rack on the fridge door, clutching it between her index and middle finger. She backed away from the fridge, getting out of Tony’s way and set the salad and its fixings on the table.

“You don’t need to wash the berries, Pep,” Rhodey said, shuffling over to stand behind Tony. He peered around Tony’s shoulder and reached around him, pulling the lox out from underneath a blue Styrofoam container filled with mushrooms.

“You washed them already?” Pepper asked, pulling a stack of plates out of the cupboard.

“Yep,” Rhodey said. He moved Tony out of his way and took the lox over to the kitchen table, slowing only to pick up a breadknife and butter knife.

“Do I need to get anything else?” Tony asked, leaning on the fridge door. He took out a new can of cat food and nearly tripped over Bucky when he tried to put it on the counter behind him. The cat looked up at Tony and licked his furry lips. “Jerk,” Tony said.

Rhodey chuckled. “You’re the idiot who didn’t look down,” he said. He handed Tony a fork. “Here – feed the dragon before he tries to roast your toes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony grumbled. He led Bucky away from the fridge so he could close the fridge door, and pulled the lid off of the cat food container. He scooped cat food out with the fork, wrinkling his nose at the smell. The cat food looked _disgusting_ , and it smelled like something had died, but Bucky seemed happy to see it when Tony set a plate down for him.

“Are we having coffee?” Pepper asked, putting tong-fulls of salad on three plates, setting out equal portions. She sprinkled raspberries and blueberries liberally on each pile of salad and then snapped her fingers. “Mixed nuts,” she said.

“We are not mixed nuts,” Tony said, turning on the coffee pot. “And yes, we are having coffee because I’m pretty sure I’m going to fall asleep on my plate if I don’t get some caffeine soon.”

“We wouldn’t want that to happen _again_ ,” Pepper said with a laugh. She stepped around Bucky, who was now circling Tony’s feet, his plate already licked clean, and retrieved a bag of mixed nuts from the counter beside a jar of cookies. She smiled down at Bucky as she unwound the twist-tie from the bag. “Aww,” she said. “You’re new friend seems to like you _much_ better today. I bet all that nice food bribery earlier helped.”

Tony smiled down at Bucky. “I guess so.”

Bucky stepped out of Rhodey’s way and walked around the table, disappearing from sight with a swish of his bedraggled tail. It was the first time Tony had seen Bucky wander around with someone else in the room; he was pleased to see the cat so relaxed.

“So,” Rhodey said, clearing his throat, “I hate to ruin this touching moment, but toasted bagels or untoasted?”

“Toasted,” Pepper said. “I want melty cream cheese.”

“Me too,” Tony said, leaning against the counter, his gaze locked on the coffee pot’s timer.

“Alright,” Rhodey said. He cut the bagels in half and pulled the toaster away from the wall. “Toasted it is.”

Pepper ruffled Tony’s hair. She slid three coffee cups across the counter towards Tony, and yawned into her hand. “I just hope we can all stay awake long enough to finish eating,” she said.

“Me too,” Tony said, cracking a grin.

 

They ate at the table, away from the reach of the television.

Bucky waited patiently to be invited up into their space, and when Tony made room for him, he sat like a loaf of bread beside Tony’s plate. He contented himself with stealing lox from the unattended half of Tony’s bagel.

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

Tony looked up, a forkful of salad held in front of his mouth. “Yes?”

“Captain Rogers is calling,” Jarvis said. “Would you like me to put him through?”

“Sure,” Tony said. He sat up a little straighter; he had only a split second to wonder if he looked presentable before a blue holographic projection appeared at the end of the table. Steve and Natasha were together; Steve was sitting in a chair that looked painfully hard and Natasha was standing just behind him, leaning against him. They both looked exhausted, but they were smiling, clearly happy to have been able to get through.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve said.

“Hey, Cap,” Tony said. “How’s it going?”

“Things are going fine here. I got your messages and wanted to check in,” Steve said. He yawned into his hand. “Sorry. It’s been a long couple of days.”

“I bet,” Tony said. He shifted a little in his seat and as Bucky walked around his plate. “Sorry – the new houseguest is pushy.” Bucky sat up on his back feet and put his paw on Tony’s shoulder; he ignored the hologram and began sniffing Tony’s beard. Tony sighed in despair. “I have cream cheese on my face, don’t I?”

Pepper smiled. “Just a bit. I’m sure _someone_ will take care of it for you.”

“Great,” Tony said.

“Is Bucky alright?” Steve asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“He’s healing. He’s got a broken leg and he’s going to have to get his stitches taken out eventually, but he’s doing alright,” Tony said. “On the upside, he seems very happy with the food so I guess he’s not too pissed off about having to spend time with us.”

Steve chuckled. “I can see that,” he said. He frowned when Bucky started licking Tony’s chin. “Are you _sure_ that’s Bucky?”

“Uh, yeah – pretty sure,” Tony said, gently easing Bucky away from his face. He hoisted the cat up and held him in front of the blue hologram so Steve could get a better look at him; he knew that Bucky was the same cat from the carrier Steve had handed him, but after a long, tiring, day he was a little worried that he might in fact be _wrong_. Was it possible he had been given the wrong cat? Could that have happened?

Bucky stiffened in Tony’s grasp, his eyes locking on the hologram. He let out a low grunt of a meow, as if to say hello and looked away.

Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Ok. Yes – that’s Bucky alright,” he said. “You guys know he’s not really a –”

An alarm went off on Steve and Natasha’s end of the call. Natasha stiffened and turned, looking at something off screen to her left. “We have to go,” she said. She turned back to the camera and smiled tiredly at Pepper. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Take care of yourselves,” Pepper said. “I hope you’re not getting into too much trouble.”

“No more than usual,” Natasha said with a shrug. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine so long as Steve, here, doesn’t do anything stupid.” She pulled at Steve’s shoulder to get his attention. The hologram flickered as it cut out.

Bucky turned in Tony’s grasp and went back to licking at the cream cheese smeared on his chin.

Tony sighed.

“Well,” Rhodey said, clearing his throat. “At least we know Cap’s getting your pictures.”

“And he’s not angry, so that’s good,” Pepper said.

Tony smeared some cream cheese on his finger and held it above Bucky’s nose. The cat followed his finger with his nose and allowed himself to be led away from Tony’s beard. He wrapped his front paw’s massive toes around Tony’s finger and held on as he licked at Tony’s finger, eating the cream cheese slowly, seeming to savor it. “Do you think we’re feeding him too much people food?” Tony asked, watching as Bucky licked up the last traces of cream cheese.

“I don’t know,” Pepper said.

“You’ll know for sure if he starts puking all over you,” Rhodey said, finishing off the last bite of his bagel.

“Thank you, Rhodey – that’s very helpful,” Tony said.

“Hey,” Rhodey said with a wink. “You asked a question – you didn’t ask for a _solution_.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “You two are awful sometimes.” She brushed her hands off over her plate, letting the crumbs from her bagel fall onto it and stood. “Now who wants pie?”

Bucky’s ears perked up.

Tony grinned. “I think we _all_ want pie.”

 

 

Bucky stole a slice of peach from Tony’s pie and sat eating his prize on Tony’s lap. He purred in contentment, lowering his head onto Tony’s knee when he was finished, and shut his eyes.

Tony continued to eat his pie, glancing down at the cat every few seconds to make sure he wasn’t about to be pickpocketed again. “Furry jackass,” he muttered to himself in between bites.

Pepper slumped against the arm of the couch and lifted her foot up, setting it on Rhodey’s lap. He juggled his empty plate and hers, setting them down on the coffee table.

“I’m guessing you want a foot rub?” Rhodey asked.

“Yes, please,” Pepper said.

“You sure Natasha’s not going to disembowel me for touching your feet?” Rhodey asked.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine with it,” Pepper said, flexing her toes. She froze, toes held in the air. “Did you pill the cat this morning?”

Tony dropped his fork to his plate with a clatter. “ _Shit_ ,” he said. His heart twisted painfully in his chest. _Oh god – he had forgotten to pill Bucky_.

“If I may, sir,” Jarvis said.

“Yes?” Tony said, barely hearing Jarvis. Had Bucky been in pain all day? Had he been suffering in silence? Cats were good at masking pain – too good sometimes. Oh god – he’s fucked up big time!

“I have been monitoring Mr. Barnes vital signs, and I believe he is no longer in need of his medication,” Jarvis said. “I planned on informing you the moment he seemed in distress but so far it has not happened.”

Tony frowned. “How’s that possible?” He was glad to hear that Bucky was fine – that the cat was pain free – but he still felt awful for not having given the cat his pills. He cursed, wishing he could go back and redo the morning. If Steve found out about this, he was never going to trust Tony again. He had had one job – one – and he had fucked it up.

“I’m unsure what the cause is, but Mr. Barnes has showed no signs of distress. He has been active, his blood pressure hasn’t changed and his body language hasn’t been any different from what it was when he was on his medication. In fact, he seems very _comfortable_ today, compared to the scans of him I gathered yesterday,” Jarvis said.

Tony looked down at Bucky. The cat peered up at him, blinking sleepily and began purring louder; he kneaded Tony’s leg and rolled over, showing Tony his cowpatch belly.

“I’m sorry, man,” Rhodey said, shaking his head. His shoulders slumped. “I distracted you – this is my fault.”

Tony snorted. “Don’t blame yourself for my shitty memory.” He clenched his fist. “I should have known – I should have set an alarm again.” Goddamn it! He had Extremis – he should have remembered that something was supposed to happen, but he had been so caught up in the rest of the day he had missed the most important thing on his to-do list. He wanted to scream. He could have hurt Bucky – he could have caused a small, furry, adorable, animal pain!

“We can lay blame later,” Pepper said, sitting up. “Jarvis? You’re _absolutely_ sure Bucky’s not in pain?”

“I am sure, Ms. Potts,” Jarvis said. “I am not a veterinarian, but I believe Mr. Barnes is fine. Would you like me to call Mr. Barnes’ vet?”

“Should we?” Pepper asked. “I mean, it’s only been twelve hours give or take since he was supposed to get his morning pill. Do you think his medication has completely flushed itself from his system?”

“I believe it has,” Jarvis said. “Most likely, the pain medication is already gone.”

“So what do we do?” Tony said. He felt like his chest was trying to collapse in on itself. He stilled as Bucky stood up and rubbed his face against his hand.

Tony stroked Bucky’s fur, unsure of what else to do.

“Should we try to pill him now?” Rhodey asked.

Tony rubbed a finger over Bucky’s nose. “Do you want your pill, buddy?”

Bucky dropped onto the floor and dove under the couch with a low growl.

“Is that a no?” Rhodey asked, squinting at the couch. “Because that looks like a no to me.”

“I’m thinking that’s _definitely_ a no,” Tony said. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Place a call to the vet, Jarvis. Ask them if I can stop giving Mr. Barnes his pain pills if he doesn’t appear to be in pain anymore.”

“How many are left in the bottle?” Pepper asked.

“I don’t know,” Tony said, running his fingers through his hair. “Jarvis?”

“There are two pills in the container,” Jarvis said. “I do not believe the pills were intended for long term use.”

Tony let out the breath he had been holding. “Two pills? That’s what – a full day?”

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis said.

“They only thought we’d need a few days?” Tony asked.

“I believe so,” Jarvis said. “If they had intended Mr. Barnes to take more, I believe they would have included more in the container.”

Tony slumped against the arm of the couch. “Ok,” he said through gritted teeth. “I guess it’s ok if we don’t give him the last two then.”

“Let’s still call the vet just to be sure,” Pepper said.

“Yes – let’s do that. Leave a message and see what the vet says,” Tony said. He slid forwards and dropped to his knees, twisting to get in a good position so he could peer under the couch at Bucky. “It’s ok, sweetie. If you don’t want to take the last two pills, it’s ok. You can come on out.”

Bucky glared at Tony.

Tony lifted his head and pressed his forehead against the couch. He had fucked up. Why did he _always_ fuck things up?

“We’ll keep an eye on him,” Pepper said, softly, putting her hand on Tony’s shoulder. “He’ll be ok. I’m sure he’s feeling fine – he’s been happy, and eating. If he wasn’t eating, then I’d be concerned. He lets you touch him too, so I don’t think he’s in any pain.”

“Hey,” Rhodey said, patting the couch cushion beside him. “He’s Steve’s cat. Maybe he’s secretly a super soldier in fur.”

“I wish,” Tony said, letting out a hissed breath. He stood up slowly, letting Pepper guide him back onto the couch. Worry wormed its way through his mind. What if Bucky _was_ in pain? What if the cat had been hurting all day, and he hadn’t noticed?

“It’s alright,” Pepper said, looping an arm around Tony’s shoulder. “It’ll be ok.”

“I hope you’re right,” Tony murmured. He rested his elbows on his knees and put his face in his hands.

It took thirty minutes for Bucky to reappear. The cat looked around, eyeing everyone suspiciously and then hopped up onto the couch, making himself comfortable on Tony’s lap. He spread out, pressing his belly against Tony’s legs while his cast-clad leg dangled over the side of Tony’s thigh. He nuzzled Tony’s hand when Tony reached down to pet him.

Still, Tony worried that something was wrong.

When Pepper and Rhodey went to bed, too exhausted to stay awake any longer, Tony was left alone with Bucky, his thoughts and the fifteen different internet searches he was running in his head via Extremis. He gnawed on his lip, watching as Bucky snored peacefully into his stomach. The cat didn’t _look_ like he was in pain – he was fairly certain the cat wouldn’t be stretched out and drooling on him if he was. The broken leg couldn’t be comfortable, and the stiches couldn’t be fun either, yet here Bucky was, taking what looked like an enjoyable nap. He ran his hands over Bucky’s fur, looking for the stitches the vet had put in and found that most of them were almost entirely healed.

“Maybe you really _are_ a tiny super soldier,” Tony murmured. He lifted Bucky up into his arms, cuddling him close and carried him off to bed.

 

 

The next morning, Tony picked up the phone with shaking hands as it rang. He hadn’t slept; sleeping felt like it was too dangerous, even though nothing had happened during the night and he had had both his eyes and Jarvis’ watching for signs of trouble.

Bucky had managed to get a good night’s sleep; he looked well-rested and ready to go as he walked in lazy circles around Tony’s crossed legs. Tony ran his fingers through Bucky’s fur, trying to stay calm. This felt worse than all of his business merger meetings _combined_ , although generally speaking, he wasn’t normally sitting on his bed in his underwear when he was at one of those meetings.

“Mr. Stark?” Melody said when their call finally connected. “I’m returning your call from last night.”

“Thanks,” Tony said, feeling drained of energy. “I really appreciate you getting back to me so quickly.” He dreaded for a moment that she had returned his call because something horribly wrong was going to happen with Bucky’s health because of his mistake and then remembered that she would likely get in early _every_ day of the week.

“It’s no trouble, really, Mr. Stark. It’s always better to check with the vet than to just guess on your own. As for your pill question, from double checking Bucky’s chart I’d say it’s absolutely fine – not _ideal_ , of course, because you should _always_ make sure you give your cat his pills on time – but in this case it’s fine. Bucky’s leg isn’t as badly broken as it could have been, and in my opinion, he’ll be fine off medication from this point forward. If he starts looking distressed – if he stops eating, starts flinching away from your touch or acting in a way that seems out of the ordinary, bring him in right away,” Melody said.

“Ok – that’s great. Thank you. Do I need to worry about the stitches?” Tony asked. He had taken pictures of Bucky’s stitches the night before and had sent them over in an email just to make sure something strange wasn’t happening; the last thing he wanted was to fuck up _twice_ in one day.

“The stitches look perfectly fine – better than fine, really,” Melody said, her voice soothing. “I understand it’s stressful and I appreciate you phoning to check in. Again – in the future, if you need to give pills to Bucky, make sure you use a timer or some kind of alarm so you remember to give them to him on time. I know you didn’t do it on purpose, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry. If you have any more questions or you see anything worrying, even if it seems like something small, please, call me.”

“Ok,” Tony said. “Thanks again.”

“Not a problem,” Melody said. “See you at your appointment.”

“See you then,” Tony said, hanging up. He gave Bucky’s head a pat and found his thumb trapped in the cat’s teeth. He squinted tiredly at Bucky. “You’re _mean_ , but I think I kind of deserve to be bitten right about now.”

Bucky let out a snort and released Tony’s hand, giving it a lick. He padded across the blankets over to the edge of the bed and dropped down onto the carpet, disappearing into the bathroom.

Tony put his head in his hands. It was fine – things were _fine_. He had fucked up, yes, but it wasn’t a _massive_ fuck up – it wasn’t something that had caused Bucky to suffer after all. He felt guilty still, but there was a giddiness in him that was trying to take hold – a giddiness that made him want to burst into Pepper and Rhodey’s rooms to tell them the good news.

 

Pepper poked her head into Tony’s room while he was deciding what to do. She was dressed in sleep clothes but she didn’t look sleepy; she looked ready to tear someone apart limb by limb, possibly with her bare hands. “We have a problem,” she said.

Tony yawned and cracked his neck. “What did the Board do now?”

“Edwards has requested the meeting we postponed be moved up,” Pepper said. “We were supposed to meet on Friday.”

“I’m guessing this is bad?” Tony said.

“They’ve gone behind my back and rescheduled the meeting for _today_ at 10:30 in the morning,” Pepper said. Her left eye gave an angry twitch and she scowled, rubbing at it. “I’m assuming you have everything prepared.”

“I always do,” Tony said, getting up. He glanced over his shoulder into the bathroom, where he could hear Bucky scratching away at the sand in the litterbox. “It’s nine now,” he said. “Do you think we’ve got time to eat?” Just because they were meeting the board in SI’s private boardroom within the Tower didn’t necessarily mean they had a lot of time. Sure, the meeting was supposed to start at 10:30 in the morning, but that didn’t mean it _would_ – half the time, the board insisted on starting early, and they hated when people showed up late, even if those people weren’t _technically_ late according to the meeting start time.

“I think we’ve got time to grab a muffin from the basket that goes around the boardroom,” Pepper said, dryly. “Go make yourself look pretty. I’ll do the same.”

Tony smirked tiredly. “Alright. Just let me check and see if I can use my bathroom,” he said. He knocked on the bathroom door and peeked inside. “You done, Bucky?”

Pepper laughed, calling over her shoulder, “Don’t take too long. If he’s being a bathroom hog, kick him out.”

Bucky scowled at Tony from the mat on the bathroom floor, halfway between the litterbox and the door. He sat down and began washing his feet.

“I guess I’m good to go,” Tony said. He grabbed the tiny pair of scissors he used to keep his beard neat and tidy and got to work, taking care of the straggly hairs that had grown in during the week. Normally he spent more time doing this, but now that he was in a rush, there were more important things to take care of – mainly getting concealer and foundation on his face so he didn’t look like he had spent the night wide-eyed, anxious, and awake. He turned around and looked down at Bucky.

“What?” Tony said.

The cat blinked slowly and continued to stare at Tony, as though having only just seen him for the first time; he looked away after a minute and began grooming his chest fur with his pink tongue.

Tony stretched out, going up on the tips of his toes, wishing he had a few more minutes to get ready. He hated rushing things, and while it didn’t really matter what _he_ looked like, he knew that it mattered what Pepper looked like; she could be the Queen of the universe, and someone would still think she was less capable if she didn’t look like she had walked right out of the pages of a fashion magazine. He wondered if he should mess up his face – make himself look a little less put-together. If he looked bad, everyone would focus on taking shots at him – not at her. Or at least he hoped they would. Sometimes it was hard to tell with people – especially with the Board. With his luck, though, the board would blame his looks on Pepper and it would make things even worse.

Sighing wearily, he walked over to his bed and found that Pepper had already been to his room. A suit was set out on his bedspread, along with a pressed white shirt, a red and gold tie and a pair of maroon socks. Everything was wrinkle free. Pepper was getting sneakier and sneakier; one of these days he was going to find himself fully dressed when he woke up. Clearly, she was taking lessons from Natasha. He pulled his clothing on, mindful of his make-up and then turned in a slow circle, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything in his haste.

Bucky padded softly into the room and hopped up onto the bed.

Tony wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn the cat was checking him out. He gave another slow twirl and waggled his eyebrows at Bucky. “How do I look? Fantastic as always? I have an ass that won’t quit?”

Bucky ducked his head and began cleaning his chest again.

“Spoilsport,” Tony grumbled. He smoothed his collar out after pulling his tie in place. A quick check of the time with Extremis told him that he needed to get moving – and fast. He scooped Bucky up from the bed, aware that the cat was now glaring at him again, and ran for the living room. Where had he left the harness? He was going to need to take a blanket or pillow with him or Bucky was going to be stuck sitting on the flat, cold, boardroom table. He hoped he had time to find everything – including food for Bucky.

Rhodey was in the kitchen. Tony hadn’t expected him to be up, but there he was digging through the cupboards as though this was something he did every day. Bucky’s harness and a folded up blanket were sitting on the counter beside him. A bowl of mushy cat food had been set out already.

“Do you want toast or something?” Rhodey asked, his back still to Tony.

Tony set Bucky on the floor in front of the food. “I don’t think I’ve got time,” he said, watching as Bucky ate.

“Alright. I’ll load you guys up with snacks then,” Rhodey said. “Ah! There they are!” He pulled a box of protein bars from the cupboard.

“I owe you one,” Tony said, catching the protein bar Rhodey tossed to him. He tore the wrapper open and bit into it, groaning as chocolate and peanut butter melted on his tongue. “Thank _fuck_ Happy bought the good ones this time.”

“I’m thinking you owe him one too,” Rhodey said with a chuckle. He stuck his head back into the cupboard and remerged with three more cardboard boxes – one was a box of fruit snacks, and other two were prepackaged cookies; it wasn’t the healthiest food around, but it was easy to carry. He constructed two identical piles of snacks on the counter beside the harness and blanket. “Do you guys know when you’re going to be done?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Tony said with a yawn. He finished his protein bar and tossed the wrapper into the trash. He gave his chin a brief scratch to make sure he didn’t have any bits of food stuck to his beard and licked his lips to make sure there wasn’t any leftover chocolate smeared on his face. “Has Pepper eaten anything yet?” he asked.

Pepper emerged from Tony’s office carrying two leather portfolios, only one of which Tony recognized as his. “I have not,” she said.

“How the hell did you know where I stashed my notes?” Tony asked, as Pepper handed him his portfolio. He didn’t bother to double check the portfolio’s contents; they had been packed for days already. He hadn’t wanted to leave anything to chance.

“A little birdie told me,” Pepper said.

Rhodey picked up both piles of snacks, handing the pile and a protein bar to Pepper and just the pile to Tony. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll make lunch – you two have fun and try not to make the other kids cry.”

Pepper stuffed her snacks into her jacket’s pockets and tore the wrapper on the protein bar with her teeth, biting into it. “Yes, mom,” she said.

Tony scooped Bucky up when he saw the cat’s bowl was empty. “Sorry buddy,” he said when Bucky let out a grumbled meow of protest. “Harness time and then we’re going for a bit of a walk. I promise – it won’t _entirely_ suck.”

 

 

Tony and Pepper strode into SI’s boardroom, ignoring the fact that every seat aside from theirs was already taken. Every director had a cup of coffee and a muffin in front of them, although some of them hadn’t dipped into either breakfast treat yet, and the basket that was normally brimming with muffins with was empty. They were lucky Rhodey had stepped in and found them food, because there wouldn’t have been anything here for them. Tony moved to the front of the room where his chair and Pepper’s sat side by side, his head held high, his pockets filled with snacks; he had the blanket Rhodey had left out for him tucked under one arm and his leather portfolio in his hand. Bucky rode on Tony’s shoulders, watching everyone as they walked past.

Pepper had her leather portfolio held in her left hand; she walked as though she was carrying a sword, her back ramrod straight, her gaze locked on her spot on at the table. She sat down and opened her portfolio, pulling out a stack of papers she then tapped on the table.

There was murmuring amongst the Board members.

“He brought an _animal_ with him?” Rutherford, a man with a salt-and-pepper wave of hair said, looking horrified. “What the hell is he thinking?”

“Typical Stark,” Waters, an older woman with long grey hair, muttered. She looked tired, but at the same time there was a twinkle in her eyes that made Tony sure she wasn’t irate – she was just pretending.

Clearly _some_ people weren’t happy about an animal sitting in on a Board Meeting. Tony ignored the muttered protests. Some of the complainers didn’t like having _Tony_ sitting in on Board Meetings, after all.

Tony sat down in his chair, smiling politely to anyone that would meet his gaze. He set his portfolio on the table and spread the blanket out on his lap, making sure there were no lumps or twists in the fabric that Bucky might find annoying. Then, and only then, did he lift Bucky from his shoulder. He set the cat down on the table and gave him a choice – lap, or table.

Bucky chose Tony’s lap. He dropped down onto the blanket and curled up, resting his head on Tony’s knee, idly kneading the blanket with his good front paw.

“I see you’re fashionably late as always, Mr. Stark,” Edwards said. He was an immaculately dressed man with short, charcoal coloured hair. His face was unpleasantly leathery and his spray-tanned skin looked like it should have been wrapped around a football. Edwards had earned himself a reputation for being the most unpleasant member of the Board early on in Tony’s rise to power at SI; he threatened to sue at least once a week since his installment on the board. He had a higher stake in SI’s stocks than most on the board, and while he didn’t have as many shares as Tony, he was always trying to earn more – through _any_ means necessary. Edwards and Obadiah Stane had been very good friends. Needless to say, Tony didn’t trust him.

“Well,” Tony said, smiling icily at Edwards. “It’s always nice to be fashionable this early in the morning.”

Edwards snorted and leaned back in his chair. He ran his fingers over the three cigars that seemed to live permanently in his front pocket, as though needing to touch them to gain strength. “Your pitch is completed, I’m assuming? We _really_ don’t have the time to wait if it isn’t.”

Pepper smiled at Edwards. “I’m sorry – are you in a _rush_?”

Edwards smiled back, his smile venomous. “Of course I am. Every minute I spend here is a minute I’m away from my family,” he said. “My daughter’s birthday is today, and I’d love to get home in time to have some cake.”

Tony bit his tongue to keep from laughing. Edwards had a daughter alright – but they hadn’t talked in years; he had kicked her out of his house when she had come out as bisexual, and she had spent the last three years of her life living with her aunt – a woman who was just as miserable as her father but far more understanding when it came to sexuality. Tony had sent Edwards’ daughter a card and a birthday gift – Captain America’s signature; she had been ecstatic.

“So,” Edwards said, clearing his throat. “Let’s hear the report.”

Tony smirked. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait,” he said. “We’ve got an agenda to keep to and my presentation is _all_ the way at the bottom of the list.”

Edward’s orange face turned an ugly shade of purple.

“That’s very true, Mr. Stark,” Pepper said. She cleared her throat and tapped her copy of the agenda with her pen. “So, as usual, we will start by checking for quorum. Do we have enough of the board here to meet it?”

“Of _course_ we have,” Edwards snarled, slamming his hand down on the table.

Bucky lifted his head and glared at Edwards, his eyes narrowed into slits.

Pepper began counting board members. “By my count, quorum has been achieved,” she said, ignoring Edward’s completely. “Shall we move on to adopting the previous meeting’s minutes?” She smiled at Tony.

Tony smiled back. “Let’s.”

 

 

Tony was fairly certain he now knew what it felt like to be a supervillain. Every time someone stood up during the meeting, he stroked Bucky’s head and smiled at them – and it was like _magic_ ; people were scared. Everyone who saw him smile started sweating, and those who didn’t see _him_ saw the person who was sweating and started sweating themselves. He couldn’t have _planned_ a better way to intimidate the Board into voting his way even if he had tried.

Edwards complained about not being consulted again and again but no one listened to him; the other members of the Board wanted to get the hell out of the building before someone put their foot in their mouth and did something Tony didn’t like and they weren’t going to stick their necks out for _Edwards_. Normally, board meetings didn’t run this efficiently and even _with_ Edwards complaining the whole way through, there weren’t any challenges to project declarations. When the board was required to vote on options, everyone worked together.

Bucky spent the three hour long meeting draped across Tony’s lap, snoring so loudly he could be heard clear across the room. At first Tony had been worried by the cat’s quick drop-off into sleep, but after listening to the Board go through their previous business and every other little nitpicky thing they felt they needed to bring up, he started feeling a little drowsy too. He would have napped on the table if he had been able to get away with it. Instead, he ate his snacks slowly, focusing on the crinkling of the packaging instead of his brain’s screamed orders for him to sleep.

Pepper, unlike Tony and Bucky, was attentive to every detail without any sign of fatigue. She watched everyone with interest, scribbling notes when necessary, poking Tony whenever he started listing to one side. She even snuck her phone out from her pocket and checked her messages. She was a master multitasker.

When the meeting was finally ready to wrap up, the last votes taken, Pepper stood up. She cleared her throat and turned to Tony. “So, Mr. Stark,” she said. She smiled at Bucky. “And Mr. Barnes.”

Tony grinned. “Meeting adjourned?”

“That was my thoughts,” Pepper said. “Any objections?” She turned and looked down the boardroom table, her keen gaze cutting through the glowers sent her way. “Good. Meeting adjourned.”

The members of the board stood slowly, weary from the meeting. They glanced at Tony over their shoulders as they walked to the door, some of them smiling, others glaring as though they were seriously considering shoving Tony out of a window.

Tony watched as they left, giving Edwards a friendly wave goodbye – a wave the other man refused to acknowledge. Tony yawned, cracking his jaw, and watched slothfully while Pepper gathered her portfolio and his up. He looked down into his lap when she was done, pondering what he should do next. He didn’t _want_ to wake Bucky; the cat looked so comfortable. His stomach gurgled in displeasure. On second thought, Bucky was going to have to get used to being woken up.

“So,” Pepper said. “That went well.”

“Better than expected,” Tony agreed, smoothing the fur down on Bucky’s back.

“Let’s head back to my office,” Pepper said. “I’ve got some things to show you.”

“Oh?” Tony said. He gave Bucky a nudge with his thumb. The cat opened one eye and glanced up at him, looking peeved by the disturbance. “Come on, sleepyhead,” Tony cooed. “We’ve got to move chairs – I promise, you can go right back to sleep when I’m done.”

Bucky let out a long, suffering, sigh and stood up. He stretched slowly, arching his back; his tail flew up to smack Tony in the chest. He gave his back legs a shake, stretching them and began flexing his toes. His pink tongue stuck out of his mouth between his teeth as he yawned; his ears twitched as he tried to get comfortable again on Tony’s lap, clearly not planning on getting up after all.

Tony picked Bucky up, mindful of the cat’s furry gut and how his fingernails could scratch the bare patches of Bucky’s skin if he was too rough. He set the cat on the boardroom table and folded the blanket up into a neat square before draping the blanket over his shoulder.

Bucky watched him with a dead, lifeless expression on his face. He looked around the room and tensed when he noticed that it was empty, as though expecting something unpleasant to happen.

“Hey,” Tony said. He wiggled his fingers at the cat. “All done. Come here, honey.”

Bucky sniffed at Tony’s fingers and hobbled forwards; he leaned against Tony when he was scooped up and rested his head on the blanket by as Pepper led them out of the room.

They made it to the elevator in record time and went down to Pepper’s office, ignored by the office staff who were scurrying about trying to get things done while eating their lunch.

Pepper’s office was clean and professional looking; there wasn’t anything homey or colourful here. It was free – for the most part – of distractions and while there was work piled up on her desk, it was piled up _neatly_. There was no clutter – no paper out of place. Things had changed since the last time Tony had been here. The obnoxious twirling statue on her desk was gone.

“What’s up with the creepy office?” Tony asked. He made himself comfortable in the padded black chair across from Pepper’s desk and shifted the blanket into his lap. Bucky settled there easily, his eyes blinking shut.

Pepper sat down at her desk, setting her portfolio and Tony’s down in front of her. “Natasha recommended removing anything personal – so people can’t use anything against me,” she said. She looked a little sheepish. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to see her smile when she saw what I’d done with the place.”

Tony smirked. “I’ll bet,” he said.

Pepper scowled. “You’re _insufferable_.”

“As always,” Tony said.

Pepper pulled her phone out of her pocket and pushed it away with a grimace.

“What’s wrong?” Tony asked.

“We have a problem,” Pepper said with a sigh. She brushed back her bangs and tugged on her fingers. “Or at least, I _think_ we might have a problem.” She took a manila folder from the pile of papers on her desk and pushed it across the table to Tony. “You’re not going to like what’s in there.”

Tony leaned forward, adjusting Bucky to keep the cat from slipping off of his lap, and took the folder, flipping it open. He ran his tongue over his teeth as he stared at the photographs inside. They had been taken with a telescopic lens, and while they weren’t timestamped they looked like they had been taken recently. He hadn’t been there to personally overseen the construction and maintenance of every building SI owned, but he knew how they were _supposed_ to look in any given year, and this matched with what he had seen for this years’ acquisitions; this was bad. He pulled Extremis up, diving into a search before he had finished flipping the pictures over. Underneath there was a single sheet of paper with fifty numbered items on it. Each item was more worrying than the last.

“This was on my desk this morning,” Pepper said.

Tony looked up sharply. “Someone left you this?”

“I was expecting it,” Pepper said, her voice whisper-soft.

Tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Great. So there were things happening at SI facilities that he wasn’t aware of – _dangerous things_. He wasn’t concentrating hard enough on work. This kind of thing shouldn’t have happened! The last thing SI needed was for some asshole to walk off with enough tech to blow up a city.

“I wasn’t keeping it from you if that’s what you’re thinking,” Pepper said.

“I know you weren’t,” Tony said. Pepper hiding things from him hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“I just wanted to check things over before I showed it to you. You’ve got enough to worry about with the Avengers and R&D – I didn’t want to scare you if it turned out to be a bunch of crappy photoshops,” Pepper said.

“I know,” Tony said. He shook his head. He hated when people stole from him. “So what’s the rest of this mean? The shipping manifesto – Is all of this stuff attached one big break-in?” Tony asked. He scanned the list again, noting that some of the items listed were pricey-yet-replaceable, while others were too expensive for a normal person to get their hands on. Some of the items on the list would be easy to track; some of it could be easily smuggled out and was untraceable. Black Market Shippers and Counterfeiters were going to be busy.

“It’s not a shipping manifesto,” Pepper said. “It’s a list of stolen goods from all of our SI sites.”

Tony frowned. “You’re telling me this stuff has gone missing and no one noticed?” Some of the stuff on the list had gone through _SHIELD_ – that had been the only reason Tony had gotten his hands on it in the first place. What the fuck was going on? He had security teams that were supposed to prevent this kind of thing from happening! Shit. He was going to have to dive back in and take control again. It was just his luck too. His mother had always talked about bad things coming in threes. He wondered when the third thing would bite him in the ass.

“Tony,” Pepper said, her eyes narrowing. “You’re not investigating this on your own.”

Tony scowled. “Why not?”

“If you find something, you’re taking Rhodey with you,” Pepper said. She glared at Tony, daring him to argue. “If you leave without him, you’re going to be in big trouble, Tony.”

Tony sighed. “Alright, alright.” He flapped a hand at Pepper. When she was right, she was right. “I’ll take Rhodey with me if any of this turns out to be something I need to investigate. Happy?”

“Good,” Pepper said. She flashed Tony a tired smile. “Now do me a favor, will you? Go do your research on an actual computer – it’s creepy when you sit there all glazed over with Extremis running in your head.”

Tony let out a barked laugh. “Fine,” he said. “But you have to explain to Mr. Barnes why I have to get up again.”

“Deal,” Pepper said. “Oh – and can you bring me down lunch before you settle in? I don’t think I’m going to be able to get back up to the penthouse for a few more hours.”

“Sure,” Tony said.

Bucky let out a loud snore and snuggled closer to Tony’s leg.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be up in two weeks! (August 4th)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Rhodey gathered information - what they found was worrying.

Tony took the elevator up to the penthouse and dropped a deeply sleeping Bucky off on the couch; the cat didn’t even twitch when he touched down on the couch cushion, he simply went on sleeping. Tony smiled softly and snuck away from the couch.

Rhodey looked up from the newspaper he was reading. He was sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by plates stacked with egg salad sandwiches and a bowl of salad that looked like it could feed an army. He cocked an eyebrow when he saw Tony creeping towards him on the tips of his toes.

“You came back _alone_?” Rhodey asked, keeping his voice low. “What happened? Did you have to sacrifice Pepper to escape?”

“Surprisingly no. She had to stay and work so we made a trade-off. I got to leave if I promised to bring her back food,” Tony said. He handed Rhodey the file Pepper had given him and took an empty plate from the cupboard and piled it high with sandwiches and salad. He grabbed a box of saran wrap from the counter and tore off a piece, settling it on top of the plate and picked up a fork. “Read this and tell me what you think,” he called over his shoulder as he walked back to the elevator.

 

When he returned back to the penthouse, he found Rhodey frowning in displeasure down at the folder.

“I take it you’re not happy with it either,” Tony drawled.

Rhodey snorted. “That’s an understatement. I kind of want to kick the thieves off your tower.”

“Cruel, but thoughtful,” Tony said, with a laugh.

Rhodey cracked his knuckles. “This is bad,” he said. “ _Very_ bad.”

“Agreed. If this is true, we’re up shit creek,” Tony said, grimly. “I’m pretty sure if SHIELD finds out about this they’ll spend their time crawling up my ass until they’re satisfied with my security – and they’ll never be satisfied, knowing them.”

“What makes you think this isn’t _SHIELD’s_ handiwork to begin with?” Rhodey said.

“What?” Tony said with a frown. “The file? Or the theft?”

“Both,” Rhodey said.

Tony pursed his lips and looked down over at the file. He knew that agents working for the government – and probably SHIELD too – had tried to steal from him in the past, but his security was the best around; he couldn’t see anyone getting into his system, and if they did, he’d have known about it in seconds. Besides, why would SHIELD need to steal anything in the first place? SHIELD had access to almost everything that was on the list Pepper had given him, and considering that the acquisition of half of that stuff had had to be approved _by_ SHIELD in the first place, he couldn’t see them wasting their time with theft unless they were thinking about pinning something on him somehow.

Tony frowned.

Well, that wasn’t a pleasant thought. Could that be true? Could someone in SHIELD be planning to take him down? It wasn’t exactly as if Hydra was dead and gone, and they had been hiding in SHIELD’s ranks for years. Was someone setting him up? Stealing from him and using it as an excuse to get SHIELD access to his personal property?

“I can call in a few favors,” Rhodey said, patting his pockets. He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his contacts. “I’ll check this out with my people to see if it’s real or not – I’ll see what we can dredge up. I can’t guarantee results though.”

“Anything would be helpful,” Tony said. He leaned against the table and glanced at the living room, wondering what to do next. Bucky was curled in a ball on the couch with his cast sticking out, snoring away like a hairy little chainsaw. Tony smiled. It was nice to see that the cat could be left alone with someone else without any trouble. He sighed, shoulders slumping and scratched at his chin. He had work to do and it couldn’t be done up here unless he wanted to solely depend on Extremis – and he was pretty sure Pepper would kill him if she found him staring blankly off to space in the living room again. That meant he would have to find himself a real console to work with; a tablet just wouldn’t do for this kind of work.

“Heading down to your workshop?” Rhodey asked, his phone pressed to his ear.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Can you watch Bucky?”

“Sure,” Rhodey said. “Take a plate down with you and eat before you get working.”

“Thanks,” Tony said. He picked up a plate of sandwiches. Having Bucky upstairs would make things a lot simpler. He didn’t think it would be a good idea for the cat to wake up in the workshop – assuming of course he managed to carry the little guy down there without waking him; Bucky hadn’t seemed to enjoy the workshop the first time they had visited, and it seemed unfair to have to reacquaint the cat to it without adequate preparation on the cat’s part. “Call me if he gets freaked out,” Tony said, nodding to the cat as he headed towards the elevator.

“I’ll call you for dinner too,” Rhodey said. “Don’t bury yourself in work, alright? Pepper and I will kick your ass if you stay down there all damn night.”

Tony cracked a smile. “Fine. Spoilsport.”

“And no Extremis,” Rhodey said, squinting at Tony.

“Aww,” Tony said, all too aware that he had let out a whine.

“Alright,” Rhodey amended. “You can use Extremis as long as Pepper doesn’t catch you and you’re up for dinner when I call you.”

Tony grinned and saluted Rhodey before stepping into the elevator. “Got it. Good luck,” he said.

“You too,” Rhodey said.

 

 

Tony plunked himself down at his workstation in his workshop, patted Dummy on the head when the bot rolled closer to say hello and got to work while eating his first sandwich. He pulled up a list of all SI’s assets – a list he updated every few weeks – and started comparing the stolen goods to the requisition, delivery and stock numbers he had for each item in SI’s inventory, trying to find a point in time where something might have disappeared. There was so much data to go through, that if he hadn’t had Extremis helping him compare the electronic details to the paper list he had memorized, it would have taken days to complete the search. When he didn’t see anything off in his databases – stock related or otherwise – he turned to the manager’s reports for each of the SI properties, hoping to find some discrepancy, but there was nothing listed as missing or having not arrived on time. He moved on, looking at memos placed on the staff network, trying to see if someone had mentioned it offhand instead of making a report. Again, he found nothing. He frowned. Was anything actually _missing_? Or was this an elaborate hoax?

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

Tony blinked and came back to himself. His internal clock made it clear that what had felt like a few minutes had in fact been _two hours_ ; his plate was empty and his free hand was smeared with egg salad. _Damn_ , time passed quickly. He cleared his throat, licked most of the egg salad off of his hand and double checked where he was on the console, making sure he had updated the notes he had typed up so Rhodey could see what he had done.

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

“Yes?” Tony said, after a minute, nearly diving back into his work again.

“Mr. Barnes is awake and heading down to visit you,” Jarvis said.

The elevator dinged.

Tony let out a tired laugh and rubbed his dry eyes; Extremis healed them a moment later, but the itch was still there, even if it was only in his mind.

Bucky was coming down to visit him? Rhodey had let the cat wander into the elevator alone? That was too funny – a cat coming for a _visit_. He had seen stories about cats getting on buses and going on trips, be he hadn’t heard one about a cat taking the elevator before.

“Does _Rhodey_ know I’m about to get a visitor?” Tony asked.

“Colonel Rhodes has approved the visit,” Jarvis said, sounding just as tired at Tony. “I believe he was frustrated by the constant attacks on the elevator door.”

The elevator dinged; the doors opened.

Bucky strutted out from inside the elevator, his scraggly tail held high. He ambled towards the workshop at top speed. He stood in front of the glass doors, peering in at Tony, demanding to be let in.

“Ok, ok,” Tony said, getting up. He groaned as his muscles complained about their mistreatment and staggered over to the workshop doors so he could open them manually; using Extremis or Jarvis to do it, he knew, was a bad idea and besides, getting up let Extremis start healing his fatigued muscles.

Bucky barely waited for Tony to get out of the way before he dove into the workshop. He looked around rapidly, assessing the area for hazards and then made his way over to the chair Tony had been using. He sniffed at it and began scent-marking it with his cheeks, pushing it around on its wheels. He was startled at first by the way the chair moved, but after that, he seemed content with the fact that his face was powerful enough to move it around.

Tony chuckled and went back to the console, standing beside it while idly watching Bucky shove the chair around. Some things were too precious to ignore – or disturb. He could wait to sit down again. He scanned the list floating on the holographic display in front of him and wondered what it was he could have missed during his search. He was good at digging through information like this – he was a genius for a reason – and he trusted Pepper’s judgement, but he still felt the need to double check every last item on the list to see if it was truly gone. Digitally, everything seemed like it was there, but maybe that was the problem. Maybe there wasn’t anything _to_ find digitally – maybe the thief had actually covered their tracks and had left something behind at each theft’s actual source; maybe there were copies in place. He dove back into his files using Extremis, trying to see if he could find even the smallest hint of something bad going on, this time exploring the files from SI’s newest facility first instead of last. _Someone_ had to have seen _something_.

Tony wasn’t sure how long he was working for, but when he came back to himself, he found Bucky attached to his arm, meowing loudly in distress. The cat was on the workstation Tony was leaning against, and he had the claws from his good paw sunk into Tony’s shirt sleeve.

Bucky wasn’t the only one holding on to Tony’s shirt, either.

Dummy was clutching at the shirt’s fabric at Tony’s shoulder, as though trying to get Tony’s attention.

“Uh,” Tony said, clearing his throat. “What’s going on?”

Bucky tugged at Tony’s sleeve; he turned when Dummy beeped and _hissed_ , baring his teeth at the bot, his ears pressed flat against his head. He let out a low, murderous growl.

Dummy beeped again, tugging on Tony’s shoulder.

Bucky _attacked_ ; he moved like a viper, striking at Dummy with his good foot so fast, it seemed like he was more blur than cat. Tony had seen cats attacking things before, but he had never seen one so fearless – so ready to do damage to something that wasn’t flesh-and-blood.

“Oh dear god,” Tony said, cringing.

Bucky sprang away from Tony and then scrambled across the worktable, shooting up Dummy’s arm to where Dummy’s hand was clutching at Tony’s shoulder. The cat attacked again, perched on top of the bot, yowling in rage, smacking at Dummy’s metal arm again and again. His claws clicked rapidly as they scraped across metal; they left no mark.

Tony scooped Bucky up, nearly getting his arm ripped off in the process, and took a step back, trying to put some distance in between them and Dummy before the cat could hurt himself. Repeated blows to something made of metal, like Dummy’s arm, wouldn’t be good for soft kitty footpads and he did not want to have to take the cat in to the vet again.

The move _would_ have worked, if Dummy had let go of Tony’s shoulder.

But Dummy didn’t let go. Instead, the bot beeped sadly, shifting his arm to try and aim his body at Bucky as though trying to figure out what was going on with the cat.

Bucky let out a loud, popped, hiss, _spitting_ at the bot. He fought against Tony’s arms and flung himself onto Dummy, attacking with everything he had in him. He hit the bot’s arm again and again and again and was about to try and sink his teeth into Dummy’s hydraulic tubing when Tony snatched him up again.

Bucky’s claws sank into Tony’s shirt as he struggled and tried to break free.

Tony winced and endured the pain. “Back up, Dummy. Let go of daddy,” he said, his voice high pitched.

Dummy let out a low, confused whine and rolled backwards, letting go.

“Whoa there, Mr. Barnes,” Tony said, bending over so Bucky could stop stretching out his shirt in a vain attempt to get at Dummy again. “It’s ok. I’m ok – You’ve saved me – are your little feeties alright?” He felt silly for speaking in such a sing-song voice, but it seemed to help. The cat seethed in his grasp, panting, his eyes narrowed, his ears still flat against his head, and stopped attacking.

Tony gulped. Peggs had been good at smacking around feathers and toy mice, but she had never looked like the furry embodiment of pure, unbridled _vengeance_ before – she had never been ready to kill for him; this was new. He was pretty sure he might be Bucky’s next target if he made a wrong move. Cats were good at redirecting when they couldn’t get at what they really wanted to kill.

Bucky hissed at Dummy again and then let out a low, irritated grumble. He turned in Tony’s grasp and began inspecting Tony’s shoulder, sniffing at the fabric where Dummy’s claw had been. There was grease on Tony’s shirt – not an uncommon occurrence when it came to being in contact with Dummy – and the sight of it seemed to inflame Bucky’s rage once more. The cat stiffened, his fur bristling, and turned in Tony’s arms, letting out a low, dangerous yowl, glaring directly at the bot.

Dummy let out a quick beep and rolled backwards so fast, he nearly crashed into his charging station.

“Bucky?” Tony said, keeping his voice soft.

The cat’s ears twitched.

“Bucky? Honey?” Tony said. He used his foot to drag his rolling chair back to the desk and slowly lowered himself into it. “Sweetie pie? Fluff butt?”

Bucky’s breath came in snorts. He settled himself against Tony’s chest, his gaze still locked on Dummy, clearly not trusting that the bot would stay away.

“Bucky?” Tony said, keeping his voice soft. “You ok, love bunny?”

Bucky let out a grunt and lowered his head onto Tony’s arm.

“Ok. Good. Let’s stay nice and calm,” Tony said, leaning back in his chair. His heart was hammering in his chest, as though he had fought off an attacker. Damned cat. If he hadn’t had Extremis in his body, he might not have been able to react so quickly. He could see Steve – and Natasha – laughing at him if they ever found out about this.

“What the hell happened?” Tony asked no one in particular.

“I believe Mr. Barnes does not like Dummy touching you, sir,” Jarvis said.

“That’s an understatement,” Tony muttered. “The last thing I remember was working and then _bam_ – attack of the angry cat. I must have been out of it for a lot longer than I thought.”

Bucky sniffed at Tony’s arm, his gaze locked on Dummy.

The bot beeped softly from his charging station but didn’t move.

Tony sighed. He had known that Bucky wasn’t happy around strange tech, but he hadn’t though the cat would suddenly _attack_ something; at most, he had expected the cat to make a run for it – not launch an outright assault. Clearly Steve had managed to find himself a war-oriented battle cat. He wouldn’t be surprised if Bucky tried to take a swing at the vacuum cleaner if he ever got a good look at it.

“Colonel Rhodes is requesting you join him and Ms. Potts upstairs for dinner,” Jarvis said. “I’m afraid this is the second time I’ve tried to inform of you of their request.”

Tony winced. That wasn’t good. Rhodey always took it as a bad sign when Tony didn’t rush upstairs for diner. He was going to get flicked in the ear for being late; he could already feel it. He stood up, pushing the chair away with his foot and hurried to the elevator with Bucky held against his chest. “Tell Rhodey I’ll be right up,” he said as he stepped inside.

The elevator doors shut.

“Do you think sucking up is going to help this time?” Tony asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Jarvis said.

Tony swore under his breath and leaned back against the wall.

 

 

When he stepped out into the penthouse, he found that Rhodey wasn’t alone at the kitchen table. Pepper was sitting beside him; neither she, nor Rhodey had started eating yet, although they had plates of Alfredo covered noodles and shrimp sitting in front of them. They watched Tony approach, feigning annoyance.

“Fall asleep on your desk again?” Rhodey asked as Tony sat down. He frowned when Bucky was placed on the table, but didn’t say anything about it.

“I wish,” Tony said. He patted Bucky’s head. “This little jerk decided Dummy was the spawn of Satan and tried to beat the shit out him single-pawed.”

Pepper’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“When is Dummy even _remotely_ threatening?” Rhodey said with a snort. “Man, cats are _weird_.” He stood up and went over to the stove. “You’re getting salad with your fettucine Alfredo because you’re late,” he said.

Tony scowled and slumped against his chair, secretly pleased that his punishment wasn’t being flicked in the ear; he could handle salad. “Great,” he muttered.

Bucky let out a meow and nudged Tony’s shoulder.

“Oh – right. Food for the furry one,” Tony said, clearing his throat. He made to stand up and found himself pushed back into his seat.

“Sit,” Pepper said. She stood up and headed over to the fridge. She pulled a can of cat food from the cupboard and scooped a blob of the warm mushy food into Bucky’s bowl, setting it on the floor with a click; she took the plastic lid for the can from the drying rack and put it on the can, dropping it off in the fridge. “Who want’s iced tea?” she asked.

Bucky jumped off of the table and hobbled his way over to his dish, licking his lips.

“I’m pretty sure we all want some ice tea – aside from the cat,” Rhodey said with a grin.

Pepper chuckled. She grabbed a jug of tea from the fridge and closed the door with her hip; she grabbed three glasses from the cupboard and carried everything over to the table where she poured herself a drink. She sat down and let out loud belch after taking a sip.

Rhodey grinned. “Must be good,” he said, reaching for the jug.

Pepper’s cheeks were faintly flushed as she let out a chuckle that morphed into a snort. She held her glass in front of her face. “It’s been a long day.”

Rhodey smirked and poured himself a glass. He pushed a glass and the jug over to Tony and started eating.

“So,” Pepper said, putting her glass down beside her plate. She picked up her fork. “Did either of you have any luck finding out what’s going on?”

Tony poured himself a drink and put the jug back in the middle of the table. “I didn’t find jack-shit,” he said, cheerfully, taking a sip. Damn that was some good tea! It had been such a long time since lunch – he was going to have to stop letting Extremis block out his hunger pangs, because he felt like he could inhale everything on his plate in one breath.

“I didn’t find anything either,” Rhodey said. “My contacts haven’t heard about anyone smuggling things out of any SI facilities or buildings, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. There are a whole bunch of assholes who want to get their grubby little fingers on hot SI equipment. Thankfully, most of them are locked up, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t be involved.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Tony said, heaving a sigh. “It could be anyone. Hammer could be involved – maybe someone else from the Ten Rings – hell, maybe even Hydra.”

“I hope it’s not _those_ bastards,” Rhodey said. “Hydra.” He let out a low whistle. “I still can’t believe the damage they did.”

“If it’s Hydra, they’ve covered their tracks as well as I’d expect. I don’t know. I don’t see Hammer pulling this off so seamlessly. I didn’t find anything in the warehouse manifests, so I’m thinking we’re either looking for one of the big names or someone new,” Tony said. “Everything seems perfectly fine from what I’ve seen. I’m thinking it’ll take a visual inspection of our entire inventory to make sure everything’s where it should be – and that’ll take a few days at the very least.”

Pepper stabbed a piece of shrimp on her plate. “There’s no guarantee everyone will respond quickly even if the message comes directly from you,” she said, shaking her head. “If we have to go look at everything piece by piece it’s going to take too long to get a real answer. We’ll have no way of knowing what’s gone wrong until it’s already happened.”

Bucky jumped up onto the table and plopped himself down beside Tony, idly sniffed the air and began grooming his whiskers.

“I don’t like this,” Rhodey said with a grunt.

Tony scowled. Pepper was right. He tried to stroke Bucky’s back, but the cat got up and strode across the table towards Pepper’s unguarded plate, shrugging off his hand. Their focus would have to be centred on damage control until they could prove that something had indeed gone wrong. The parts that may or may not have been stolen could be used to make a bomb, but they could also be used to make all kinds of other illegal and dangerous things. He could guess at some of the bigger creations, but all of the options were equally dangerous when in the wrong hands, and if there was something else being created, something unknown to even Tony – a new invention – things might be much, much worse. They needed to be ready for anything.

“Any news from Steve and Natasha?” Tony asked, drumming his fingers on his chin. If something like this was really happening, Steve and Natasha _had_ to know about it. Maybe this was what they had disappeared to deal with in the first place.

“I haven’t heard from Natasha,” Pepper said, her voice soft. She opened her mouth to speak again and instead squinted down at Bucky when she realized that the cat was face-first in her plate. She scowled at him. Bucky looked up at her, his mouth full of noodles. He carried his stolen mouthful away as he returned to Tony’s side of the table; the noodles dragged along the table beside him, leaving streaks of Alfredo in their wake.

“Your cat is an _asshole_ ,” Pepper grumbled, poking at her plate with her fork. She wrinkled her nose. “He took all my shrimp and now he’s learning how to steal noodles.”

“He’s getting more and more skillful as time goes by,” Rhodey said. He locked eyes with Tony and tried not to grin. “Did you corrupt that cat? Or is he just naturally evil as hell?”

Tony let out an ungodly snort, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Jarvis – you got video of that, right?”

“I did sir,” Jarvis said, sounding amused. “Shall I save it to your private server?”

“Do that – and send a copy to Steve while you’re at it,” Tony said with a chuckle. He searched through his noodles for a couple of pieces of shrimp and set them on the table beside Bucky’s pilfered noodles; the pre-emptive sacrifice would be worth it if he didn’t end up with a paw in his food the next time he wasn’t looking.

Bucky’s eyes went comically wide. He gobbled up the shrimp and went back to gnawing on his noodles. When he was done with his meal, he stood up and began licking his way across the tabletop, following the Alfredo trail back to Pepper’s plate.

Pepper scowled down at Bucky when he finally looked up, inches away from her plate. “You’re back,” she said.

Bucky licked his lips and shifted in place, eyeing her noodles again.

Pepper sighed and nudged some of the noodles off of her plate and onto the table. “There,” she said. “Take those and go back to Tony.”

Bucky picked up the noodles and carried them off across the table, returning to Tony’s side. He flopped down and nibbled at his catch, pacing himself this time.

Tony smirked. “And you say _I’m_ spoiling him,” he said.

Pepper snorted. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Ok,” Rhodey said, rolling his eyes. “Are we going to get back to business or are we going to spend the rest of the night staring at the cat while he tries to sucker us into feeding him?”

“I suppose,” Tony said.

“What do you think we should do now?” Pepper asked, pursing her lips.

“Well, we can send a message to Steve and Natasha,” Tony said. “Ask them if they’ve noticed anything weird going on. If this has anything to do with their super-secret mission, they might be able to help. And even if they aren’t involved, at the very least we’ll have two more brains to help us figure things out.”

“Good idea,” Rhodey said.

“Jarvis?” Tony said. “Send Steve an email and ask him if he knows anything about any possible thefts from SI buildings. Send him the list and the research we’ve done and tell him to get back to me as soon as possible, even if it’s just to tell us he has no idea what we’re talking about.”

“Done, sir,” Jarvis said. “Do you wish to inform SHIELD about the possible thefts?”

Pepper shook her head. “Not yet. The person who handed me that file doesn’t want to get caught up in any investigations until they absolutely have to be contacted. They don’t want to deal with the extra paperwork.”

Tony snickered. “Let me guess – Maria Hill’s your little birdy?”

Pepper crossed her arms over her chest, her left eyebrow twitching. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“So it’s _definitely_ Maria then,” Rhodey said, pushing his empty plate away. He licked Alfredo sauce off of his fingers and leaned back in his chair, letting out a long, satisfied burp. “So I don’t know about you two, but I’m still kind of hoping I get to have a _vacation_ during my vacation time.”

Tony smiled. He glanced over at the clock, fighting the urge to simply use Extremis, and checked the time. It wasn’t late, but he still felt exhausted. Maybe they should call it an early night – it wasn’t like they could do much more tonight aside from sending out emails to all of the managers where things _may_ have gone missing so someone could check if everything was where it was supposed to be – and Jarvis was already doing that all. There wasn’t anything to babysit or supervise at this point.

“I vote we deal with this tomorrow,” Pepper said, standing up. She yawned into her arm, nearly dropping her plate and shuffled over to the dishwasher. “I’m going to try and get through to Natasha and then I’m off to bed.”

“Same here,” Rhodey said. “Well – aside from the Natasha part.” He scooped up Tony’s empty plate and his own and carried everything over to the dishwasher, loading it up as Pepper shuffled off to her room. He saluted Tony and tossed him a dish rag. “Clean the table, will you?”

Tony grinned. “Sure.”

Bucky yawned and flopped down on the table, closing his eyes.

“I guess that means I’m cleaning up on my own, huh?” Tony said.

 

 

Tony woke up with Bucky lying on his chest, the cat’s body curled around the arc reactor. Bucky was snoring softly, seemingly resting peacefully, but the moment Tony moved, Bucky jerked his head up and looked around the room, alert.

“It’s ok, sweetheart,” Tony said, his voice gravely. “Go back to bed.” He turned his head, peering blearily through the darkness at his alarm clock and saw that he still had a good two hours before Rhodey would start stirring. Pepper would probably be up soon, however, and while he didn’t have to get up and help her with anything, he sort of felt like he should at least make the attempt at getting up and see her off to work. He gave a wiggle, reached his arm up above his head and then let it drop down onto his pillow. Attempt made; now to go back to sleep. He closed his eyes and dropped off immediately.

 

Tony woke not to his alarm, but to the face an inch away from his. Bucky was sitting like a loaf of bread on Tony’s chest, obscuring the arc reactor with his fluff and pudge; he did not look like he was ready to get up, and he seemed _very_ awake.

Tony cleared his throat. “So,” he drawled, staring bleary-eyed into Bucky’s eyes. “Am I allowed to get up today or are you giving me a stay-in-bed pass?”

Bucky let out a sigh and settled against Tony’s chest, resting his chin on Tony’s. It was eerie to have the cat’s face so close to his; Bucky didn’t seem to need to _blink_.

Tony’s bedroom door opened slowly. Rhodey peeked in through the crack in the door.

“Are you decent?” Rhodey asked.

“As decent as I’ll ever be,” Tony said. “I can’t say the same for Bucky, though. He’s not wearing any clothes.”

Rhodey let out a snort and opened the door all the way, letting himself into Tony’s room. He cocked a hip and laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, so this is why you’re still lying in bed at ten in the morning. You’re _trapped_.”

“Yep,” Tony said, clearing his throat. He licked his dry lips. “So very trapped.”

“Sadly, your excuse isn’t working anymore,” Rhodey said. He kicked the end of Tony’s bed, making the mattress jiggle. “Get up, lazybones. We’ve got research to do and while you could theoretically get Jarvis to do it, you’re going to do some of it on your own.”

Tony groaned. “But I don’t want to get up.”

“Tough shit,” Rhodey said. He pointed at Tony. “You’d better be up by the time I get back, or you’re not getting any French toast.”

Tony let out a scandalized gasp. “You wouldn’t!”

“Watch me,” Rhodey said, strutting out the door.

Tony shifted his weight and tried to dislodge Bucky. The cat gave him a dirty look and stood, and staggered down Tony’s torso to stand on the mattress; he groomed himself in sullen silence, watching Tony out of the corner of his eye.

Tony stripped himself out of his underwear with a grimace and stalked into the bedroom to take a shower. He left the bathroom door open in case Bucky needed to use the litter box and stepped into the shower, letting Jarvis turn everything on for him.

He let out a low, satisfied, groan as hot water hit his back. He didn’t like getting hit in the face with water, not after Afghanistan, so the showerhead was putting out more of a lazy trickle of water than any real spray; it still felt nice. He turned slowly, letting the warm water work its way down his body. Extremis took care of the aches and pains from sleeping for too long as he lathered shampoo into his hair.

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

“Yes?” Tony said, scrubbing at his hair.

“I have been monitoring the SI facilities that house items from the list Ms. Potts gave you and I have noticed a break in at the New York building. Shall I notify the police? Or would you like to deal with this on your own?” Jarvis asked.

Tony nearly slipped on shampoo lather. Someone was stealing from one of his facilities? Someone was actually taking things from the list? _Shit – shit – shit_ – and here he was, naked, wet and covered in foam. He stuck his head under the showerhead and turned the water up higher with Extremis’ help, suffering through the horrible feeling of drowning in order to get rid of the worst of the foam. He pulled his head out from under the water with a gasp, blinking away afterimages he would prefer to never, ever, see again and dove for the fogged-up glass shower door. He threw the door and found a towel pressed into his hands by an irritated looking Rhodey.

“Thanks,” Tony said, scrubbing at himself.

“I take it we’re suiting up?” Rhodey said, keeping his eyes above waist-level.

“Yep,” Tony said. “Jarvis? Watch Bucky for us, will you? And call Pepper – tell her what’s going on and where we’re going in case something happens.”

“And don’t call the police,” Rhodey said, taking the towel back when Tony was done with it. He pitched it onto the towel bar and followed Tony out into his bedroom.

Bucky watched as Tony hurriedly searched through his dresser for a pair of tight-fitting compression shorts; he looked away when Tony pulled them on, his gaze locked on the blankets.

“What’s wrong?” Tony asked, grinning cheekily.

Rhodey scowled and swatted Tony in the back lightly. “I really did not need to see your junk this early in the morning,” he said.

Tony snorted. “Well, at least this time you didn’t have to put up with naked-drunk-me.”

“True,” Rhodey said, handing Tony a shirt. “This time I only had to deal with wet-and-still-covered-in-bubbles-you. That’s definitely an improvement.”

Tony chuckled and pulled on the shirt. He grinned at Rhodey. “Race you to the elevator.”

Rhodey grinned and took off running.

 

 

They arrived at SI’s New York facility five minutes later and found that the thief hadn’t been in a rush like they had expected. The woman, dressed in a black bodysuit, facemask, and flat, noiseless, shoes, was casually searching through the warehouse, seemingly unconcerned by what she was doing. She froze when she realized she wasn’t alone and tried to throw herself under the shelving to avoid capture.

The fight ended quickly. She was fast, but she couldn’t keep up with both Iron Man and War Machine – not when they were working together.

Rhodey kept the woman pinned against War Machine’s chest until Tony got a set of plastic straps wrapped around her legs and arms; he then let her go, forcing her to sit on the floor. The warehouse was quiet aside from the sound of the thief’s panted breath. The woman glared at them, her face uncovered. Her skin was a strange shade of pink, and her eyes were larger than a human’s, glittery and red. She glared at them, baring fanged teeth.

“Hey,” Tony said, opening the suit’s faceplate. “You’re the one who broke into _my_ building – you don’t get to complain!”

The woman cursed in an unknown language – something possibly alien – and scowled at Tony, her fury relaxing slightly. She shifted on the floor, making herself more comfortable.

“So,” Tony said. “Why are you stealing from me? And who are you?”

“I’m no one important,” the woman said with a growl. “And I work for no one.”

“Right,” Rhodey said. Unlike Tony, he kept his faceplate down. “So why are you here then? Looking for a way home?”

The woman snorted. “Hardly. I’m perfectly fine living on earth.”

“So why were you trying to steal from me?” Tony asked, barely containing his irritation. They hadn’t caught the woman with anything in her hands, so it was impossible to tell what she had come here for; this building housed several items on Pepper’s list. If the thief didn’t admit to anything, they were screwed.

The woman glared at Tony. “I’m stealing from you because I want to.”

“That’s not helpful,” Tony said, crossing his arms over his chest. He turned to Rhodey, frowning. “I got out of the shower for this? _Seriously_?”

The woman flushed bright red, then changed to a dull pastel green. She pursed her lips and glared down at the floor.

Tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, a delicate move with the armor still on. He had broken his nose once doing the same thing, and it had taken him a while to perfect the gesture; it worked well for interrogations – or at least, he assumed it did. “Look,” he said. “While I’d love to stay and chat, I’ve got things to do. I’m sure SHIELD would love to get their hands on you – and they’ll _make_ you talk.”

“Alright – fine. I’m getting paid,” the woman muttered lowly. She looked around at the security cameras and then kept her face to the ground, keeping her lips from view. “They’re watching.”

Tony shivered inside the suit. Well that was creepy – and informative. Someone was in his network and he didn’t like that one bit. He dove into the security camera feeds with Extremis and searched through the data stream, tracing all outgoing feeds. He was surprised when he found himself in a foreign computer, looking at someone _extremely_ familiar and _extremely_ idiotic through that computer’s webcam.

“You’re shitting me,” Tony said. He closed his faceplate. Shutting off the external mikes, he turned his comms to Rhodey’s frequency. “So guess who is spying on us like a dirty pervert?”

Rhodey sighed. “It better not be who I’m thinking it is.”

“Who do you think it is?” Tony asked, amused.

“Hammer?” Rhodey said, sounding tired. “It’s Justin Hammer, isn’t it.”

“That’s eerie,” Tony said, pouting. It was safer to do that in his suit, where no one could see him. “How did you figure it out so fast?”

“You said ‘You’re shitting me’,” Rhodey said. “Hammer’s the only guy who ever gets that reaction in that _exact_ tone.”

Tony groaned. “Damn it!”

“So what’s up with the rat-bastard?” Rhodey said. “He’s spying on you – why and from where?”

“From the feed I’m following, it looks like he’s in some kind of jail cell,” Tony said, looking between the feed from Hammer’s webcam and the security cameras. It was Hammer alright – but something about Hammer’s surroundings didn’t feel right. Normally prisoners didn’t get access to laptops – or webcams – unless they had been very well behaved, and even then they were never allowed to use one while in a cell alone – not in a high security prison. Prison guards didn’t like inmates having direct contact with the outside road.

“Where did SHIELD stick Hammer? Do you remember?” Tony asked.

“The last I heard, Hammer was in a maximum security prison somewhere outside New York,” Rhodey said. “You’d have to double check though. Who knows? Maybe SHIELD moved him without saying anything.”

“They would have told Pepper at the very least,” Tony said. He opened the faceplate and smiled at the thief. “So what are you here for?”

The woman gritted her teeth; her skin changed to a pale blue. “I can’t say.”

“He’s not watching anymore,” Tony said. He shut off the feed from the security cameras with Extremis and grinned when he saw Hammer’s reaction via the webcam. “So get talking. What does Hammer want from you?”

“It’s not what he wants from me – it’s what he wants from you,” the thief grunted. She glanced over at the cameras, checking for movement and relaxed. “Look. No offence, but I don’t really give a shit about Stark Industries. This isn’t even my usual dimension – I’m just here because I came to help a friend out.”

“What does Hammer want?” Tony asked. He hated having to ask so many times in a row, but at least the woman seemed willing to communicate now that Hammer wasn’t peering over her shoulder.

“He’s been collecting things,” the woman said. “He’s got a list of stuff he needs and he’s desperate to get everything before time runs out. I don’t know why – the men who hired me didn’t tell me anything other than to grab what I came for and run.”

“But you _didn’t_ run,” Rhodey said.

“No,” the woman said with a grin. “I didn’t.”

Had she wanted to get caught? Tony stiffened and prepared for an attack – but to his surprise, nothing happened.

“Believe me, I’m not happy about being Hammer’s minion,” the woman said. “But it’s what I’ve got to do to get the money my friend needs to pay her debts off in full.” She shrugged. “Hammer offered me a million bucks – what will you offer me?”

Tony smiled thinly. “I’ll give you a nice stay at a SHIELD jail cell,” he said. He closed the faceplate again and turned his comms to SHIELD’s frequency. He might not be a very good interrogator, but SHIELD agents were, and while he didn’t entirely trust them to tell him the full details, he had Hammer’s location and the bastard’s IP address. That was more than enough for him. Worse come to worse, he could always go pay Hammer a direct visit and get the weasel to spill his guts.

The woman sighed and hung her head. “Really? You’re going to go the _mean_ route?”

“Honey,” Tony said, “I’ve got better things to spend a million bucks on.”

 

 

Tony sent Rhodey on ahead to the tower and waited with the SHIELD agents who came to pick up the thief. She still hadn’t told anyone her name, and the minute she had laid eyes on the SHIELD agents, she had clammed up. He wondered idly if she had thought he was bluffing. She had been pretty cocky up until Rhodey had disappeared and then she had attempted the lamest attempt at flirting Tony had ever had the fortune of witnessing.

“Mr. Stark,” a SHIELD agent said, clearing his throat. The man looked like he had greased his hair back with motor oil; he’d probably used the oil to slip into his skin-tight uniform too.

“Yes?” Tony said. He had the suit’s helmet off; he probably had bubbles in his hair, but at this point he didn’t care what SHIELD thought of him – they already had him labeled as a fuck up, so how much worse could it get?

“We’re transferring the prisoner to the Raft,” the agent said. “We’ll call you if we get any information out of her.”

“You do that,” Tony said.

“Anything you could tell us about her would be helpful,” the agent said.

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “I told you everything I knew when I called this in,” he said.

“Are you sure, sir?” the agent asked, frowning.

“I’m sure,” Tony said with a growl. He didn’t like being prodded – especially when he was basically being called a liar. “Tell Fury he’s not going to get free reign to dig around in my company. If he wants to ask me a bunch of useless questions, he can do it in person – not through a lackey.”

The SHIELD agent wilted under Tony’s glare. “Understood,” he said. He nodded once, feigning courage and then dashed off to go join up with the rest of the SHIELD agents who were slowly exiting from the warehouse all the while scanning the room and taking pictures – all without permission.

Tony put his helmet back on and scanned the room, cataloguing everything in range. He worked quickly, keeping tabs on both the SHIELD agents and the thief as he worked. Something still felt wrong. It was starting to seem more and more like this was some kind of a trap. He regretted sending Rhodey back to the tower now that he was alone.

Was this part of Hammer’s plan? Had Hammer arranged to get someone in here to cause chaos so they could try something big? Or was there something else happening? Hammer wasn’t the kind of man to make grand plans – not ones that worked, anyways, and if this was the first theft in a string of them – if the list Pepper had been sent was an order form that hadn’t been filled yet – someone else was hiding behind the curtain pulling strings.

This SI building was one of the best protected ones; it had the latest tech, and the latest security. So why had it been targeted first? Even Hammer, incompetent as he was, would have known better than to go after something heavily guarded _first_. It would tip someone off. The building with the best security should have been the last stop – not the first.

And Hammer’s choice of thief was puzzling too. Why pick someone like her – someone Hammer didn’t have complete control over – to go looking for something so important? It didn’t make sense.

Tony let the results from the scans cascade over him, sorting through everything with Extremis; he sent the data off to Jarvis as a backup and then looked the room over again, searching the items in the room for matching items on the list Pepper had given him. He gritted his teeth when he found himself matching up a coil SI patented fiberoptic wires, plastic lenses and motherboards. Things were even fishier now. All of this stuff could have been found on the internet – this wasn’t _rare goods_. It definitely wasn’t worth the million dollars Hammer had offered for someone to steal it. What the hell was going on?

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

Tony tensed. “Yes?”

“Colonel Rhodes requests that you return home immediately,” Jarvis said.

“Right – on it.” Tony ran for the door, zipping through the air with his jetboots; his repulsors flared bright white as he tore through the sky, heading for the tower.

 

 

Tony landed on the penthouse armor landing pad, scanning his surroundings for danger. His shoulder slumped when he saw Rhodey standing in the penthouse behind the glass doors that led to the balcony. Bucky was sitting beside Rhodey’s foot, glaring through the window at the landing pad.

“Please tell me you didn’t make me rush home because the cat was being annoying,” Tony said into the comm as the armor disassembled. He shivered as the air hit his bare skin and remembered belatedly that he wasn’t wearing socks or shoes. He padded across balcony, his bare feet slapping against the cold cement, and dove inside the penthouse as Jarvis kindly opened the door.

Rhodey sighed and pulled the comm from his ear, putting it in his pocket. “He’s being _really_ annoying,” he said, looking sheepish.

Tony’s teeth began to chatter. He wrapped his arms around himself and shifted from foot to foot, trying to warm up. He hadn’t been outside all that long, but it still felt like someone had stuck him in the freezer buck-ass-nude.

Bucky hopped over to Tony and began sniffing Tony’s feet. His whiskers flicked over Tony’s skin; Tony found himself giggling and pulling away.

Rhodey snickered.

“Not funny,” Tony said, trying to avoid Bucky’s nose, a task that proved impossible. The cat circled Tony’s ankles, sniffing away and then stood on his hind legs, his good paw pressed up against Tony’s bare leg. The cat’s footpads were like molten lava against Tony’s skin. Bucky let out a loud meow and then sat back down, looking up at Tony.

Tony bent down and bent his knees, still shivering. “It’s ok, sweetie.” He put his hand on Bucky’s head.

The cat sniffed frantically at Tony’s fingers and began scent marking himself on every patch of skin he could reach; he rubbed his nose against Tony’s elbow and then hopped up onto Tony’s bent knees, seating himself there while Tony balanced precariously on his heels, trying to stay upright.

“What’s gotten into him?” Tony asked, stroking Bucky’s back.

“I don’t know,” Rhodey said. “He’s been like that ever since I got back. It was like he was terrified something had happened to you – like you weren’t going to come back.”

Tony scooped Bucky into his arms and hugged him against his chest. He stood slowly and made his way over to the couch. “Its ok buddy,” he cooed. “I’m fine. You’re fine. It’s all good.” He nearly bit his lip when Bucky rammed his face into Tony’s chin and started scent marking his beard.

“So what did you find out?” Rhodey asked. He pulled a blanket off the back of one of the recliners and draped it over Tony’s shoulders before sitting down on the couch beside him.

“Hammer appears to have been spying from a computer while in some kind of cell,” Tony said. He pulled the blanket around him tighter and cuddled Bucky against his stomach; the cat rubbed against Tony’s belly and settled there, his front paw’s claws clinging to Tony’s shirt in that way that was only _mildly_ uncomfortable.

“Right – you said that before. Tell me something new,” Rhodey said, leaning forwards. He rested his elbows on his knees. “So it’s Hammer for sure?”

“I don’t think so,” Tony said, shaking his head. “I’d believe it if Hammer wasn’t in a cell. Why would he put something together while still being locked up? I’ve got Jarvis running through the video and pictures I took from the peek I got through Hammer’s webcam. We’ll see if he can match anything in the known prison networks. The webcam’s off now and I can’t get into the computer anymore, but I managed to get the IP address before I was locked out.”

“Most prisions don’t leave their networks open,” Rhodey said, dryly. “I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear anything illegal there.”

“Good, good,” Tony said, grinning.

Bucky got up and walked over Rhodey. He ran over Rhodey’s lap and up the arm of the chair, walking back to Tony along the back of the couch.

Rhodey looked hurt.

Tony scowled as Bucky began sniffing his ears. “Jarvis? Are we absolutely _sure_ Bucky’s fine?”

“I have noticed an elevation in Mr. Barnes’ heart rate, but he has calmed considerably since your return, sir,” Jarvis said. “I believe he was uncomfortable with your absence.”

Tony sighed as Bucky rubbed his cheek against his face; the cat balanced himself on Tony’s shoulder and smeared his wet nose down Tony’s bearded cheek.

“So you think it’s not Hammer,” Rhodey said, smiling softly. He clasped his hands in front of his face. “Who’s our mystery thief?”

“According to Pepper’s list – and the suit’s scans of the inventory – our unnamed thief was probably there for some cables, motherboards and plastic lenses. Her face doesn’t match any of the databases I’ve hacked, so I have no idea who she is. SHIELD’s going to have to tell us that.”

“Is any of that stuff expensive?”

“To a normal human, yes, but to anyone in the industry or with the ability to open a loan account at the bank, it’s not that hard to get,” Tony said. He scowled when Bucky walked down his chest and he was hit in the nose by the cat’s fluffy tail. He spat out a mouthful of fur as Bucky turned in a lazy circle, sniffing the air and sat down on his lap. Bucky rested his chin on Tony’s stomach and closed his eyes; Bucky began purring.

“That’s adorable,” Rhodey said, scowling. “Why is it that all the cute fluffy things are attracted to you?”

“Maybe they like flab instead of muscles?” Tony said, grinning widely.

Rhodey snorted and smiled crookedly.

Tony stroked the top of Bucky’s head between the cat’s ears.

“So what do we do now?” Rhodey said. “If that IP address doesn’t work out, we’re screwed.”

“Pretty much,” Tony said.

“I guess I’ll go back to harassing my contacts,” Rhodey said standing up.

“I think I’ll go back to taking my shower,” Tony said. He looked down at Bucky and sighed. “If I can ever convince him to get up.”

 

 

Tony woke up with a snort when Pepper prodded him in the shoulder. “What did I miss?” he said, his eyes wide.

“You fell asleep on the couch,” Pepper said. She looked like she was trying not to laugh at him.

“Aww, damn it,” Tony said. He looked down at his lap and rubbed his eyes. Bucky was upside down and snoring away, oblivious to Pepper’s presence. “How long was I out, Jarvis?”

“You have been asleep for four hours and ten minutes,” Jarvis said.

“Rhodey’s going to kill me,” Tony muttered.

“Colonel Rhodes was the one who told me to let you go back to sleep,” Jarvis said, sounding amused. “He has informed me that none of his contacts have any information and has gone to the liquor store.”

“I see,” Tony said, rubbing his eyes again. “Speaking of stores, are we making food or buying it?” He looked over at Pepper and gave her the best puppy-dog eyes he had in him.

Pepper gently lifted the blanket up and dropped it delicately on Tony’s head. “I’ve already got sandwiches ready,” she said with a laugh. “Why don’t you go take a shower before we eat? Everything will still be here when you get back.”

Tony looked down at Bucky and sighed. “But I’m _trapped_ ,” he said.

Pepper plucked a can of mushy food from the counter and cleared her throat. She walked over to the coffee table and slowly peeled the metal lid backwards.

Bucky’s ears twitched. His head jerked up from Tony’s stomach.

“There we go,” Pepper said as Bucky stood up and stretched. “Now you’re free.”

“Thank you,” Tony said. He waited impatiently for Bucky to finally vacate his lap and then got up. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Take as long as you need,” Pepper said, returning to the kitchen. Bucky hurried after her.

 

 

Dressed in a clean, baggy, shirt and grey sweatpants, Tony felt much better. He found his way back to the kitchen and was escorted over to the couch by an irritated looking Bucky. A plate with two roast beef sandwiches was placed on his lap by a tired-looking Pepper and a root beer was placed in hand by a somewhat-buzzed looking Rhodey.

Rhodye sprawled in his recliner with his beer in hand. It was some kind of fancy IPA – the kind Tony hadn’t really liked when he was still drinking – and Tony could smell it clear across the room. “Sorry,” Rhodey said, taking a sip of his beer. “I know you don’t like the smell of this stuff, but I wanted a drink so I could at least pretend I was on vacation.”

“You brought me the fancy root beer,” Tony said, saluting Rhodey with his bottle. “How can I complain?”

Rhodey chuckled.

“No worries,” Tony said. “I don’t mind if you’re drinking – you guys know that.”

Pepper picked up her beer and took a sip. She sighed and blew the hair out of her face.

“Something wrong?” Rhodey asked.

“Natasha hasn’t called back yet,” Pepper said. She put her beer down and picked up her sandwich, taking a vicious bite out of it.

“She’ll get back to you when she can,” Tony said. “Steve hasn’t answered either. They must be pretty busy doing whatever it is they’re doing.”

“Maybe they’re secretly on _vacation_ ,” Rhodey said.

“You seem very obsessed with vacations right now,” Tony said, sipping his root beer.

“I am not,” Rhodey said with a sniff. “I just want to go on mine at some point. Natasha and Steve are getting a vacation – why can’t I have one?”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Natasha and Steve are not on vacation,” she said.

“How do you know?” Rhodey asked, sipping his beer.

“I know because Natasha and I have plans for when she comes back,” Pepper said, primly, biting into her sandwich. She chewed thoughtfully and set the sandwich down on her plate. “I suppose I’m going to have to postpone that trip. We’ve got lawsuits to take care of still and plans for certain news outlets.”

Rhodey grinned. “Those are good plans.”

Pepper picked her sandwich up again and gestured with it at Rhodey. “You better keep your mouth shut. The plans are _secret_ – remember? No drunken explanations – Tony has to wait to find out what we’re doing.”

“I know, I know,” Rhodey grumbled. “I’m buzzed, not totally off to the moon.” He turned to Tony, leaning heavily against the arm of the couch. “We’re definitely going out to do something tomorrow. I want to goof off for a while if we’ve still got the chance.”

“Agreed,” Tony said. With no more clues to go through, there wasn’t much he could do other than spend his time sitting in front of a computer. Jarvis was more than capable of figuring things out on his own, and Rhodey only had the two weeks of time off. It wouldn’t be fair if Rhodey had to spend all of that time hunting down what might just turn out to be ghosts and dead ends.

“Good,” Rhodey said. He finished his beer and gently set the bottle on the coffee table. “And at the end of the day, we’re getting more of that cake we had a few days ago.”

“Sure,” Tony said. “We’ll have lots of cake.”

“Good,” Rhodey said. He closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

Pepper smiled into her sandwich.

“If you get one of your eyeliners out we can draw a moustache on him,” Tony said.

Pepper shook her head. “You remember what happened last time – no more moustaches.”

“Right, right,” Tony said. “To be fair though, the one he drew on you was pretty fantastic.”

“It really was,” Pepper said. She set her empty plate down. “But let’s never speak of that again.”

“Natasha would be really happy to see those pictures,” Tony said.

“Show her the pictures and you’re a dead man,” Pepper said with a growl.

Tony grinned.

“And no getting Jarvis to do your dirty work,” Pepper warned. “If she sees them in any way shape or form, you’re getting the blame.”

“But what if they make Natasha call back faster?” Tony grumbled.

Pepper’s left eyebrow twitched.

“Fine – spoil sport,” Tony grumbled. “I know you showed her the picture of me with flowers drawn all over my face – you know the picture. It’s not fair.”

“I didn’t show her that one on purpose,” Pepper said with a groan, putting her head in her hands. “It’s on my phone and she borrowed it to text Clint when she forgot hers in her room.”

“ _Forgot_ – sure. That’s a good line,” Tony said.

“I’m sorry,” Pepper said, softly.

“It’s not like she saw the bubble beard picture,” Tony said. “Don’t sweat it.”

Pepper froze.

“Oh dear god,” Tony said, setting his empty plate down. “You showed her the bubble beard picture! I was _naked_ in that one!”

“I know!” Pepper said, her face still in her hands. “It was an accident!”

“I thought you deleted it!”

“It’s still on Rhodey’s phone! It wasn’t my fault this time!” Pepper said. “Besides – it’s not like she hasn’t seen you naked before.”

Tony pursed his lips. “Wait. Rhodey has a naked picture of me on his phone?”

“He says he likes looking at it when he wants a good laugh,” Pepper said.

Tony scowled. “Great.”

“You’ve still got the photos of him wearing assless chaps at the Pride Parade,” Pepper said. “You’re not the only one with naked pictures of your friends.”

“Good point. That was a good day – we should do that again. You looked really good in that rainbow dress,” Tony said.

“So did you,” Pepper said.

“You know, if the press ever got a look at half the pictures we take of each other, they probably wouldn’t believe all the stupid shit we’ve done.”

Pepper looked up, her eyes twinkling. “I know,” she said. She held her bottle of beer between her hands and rolled it back and forth.

“Natasha’ll call you back,” Tony said. “She’ll be fine – she’s tougher and scarier than everyone else I know. If someone goes after her, they’re probably stupid as fuck.”

“That’s what she said to me before she left,” Pepper said, wistfully. “I don’t know how you guys do it. I have a hard time sleeping when she’s gone, and you can fall asleep on the couch at the drop of a hat.”

“I’m special,” Tony said. “I also had a cat in my lap, and we all know that having something cute around helps people sleep better.”

“I still don’t know how you guys do it,” Pepper said. “It’s so stressful just thinking about the stuff that _might_ be happening. I keep hoping that that list is just a joke, you know?” Pepper said, her voice soft. “It would be nice to not worry for a few days.”

“I know what you mean,” Tony said. “But hey, at least we can never say our lives are _boring_.”

“True,” Pepper said, saluting Tony with her bottle.

Tony saluted her back. “Thing’s will be fine,” he said. “I promise.” He hoped to hell he was right.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you notice anything funky. This was posted at almost 4 a.m. and I might have missed some stuff XD Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time flies when trying to avoid a visit to the vet...

Tony woke at five in the morning, an hour he was rarely aware of unless he had spent the entire night awake. Pepper didn’t have to work until seven most days, and she always got up extra early to make sure things that needed to be done were done to the best of her ability. As he had failed to get up the morning before, Tony figured it would be a good idea to come help with breakfast, and considering what had happened the night before he had a feeling he would be doing all of the cooking. 

Tony fed Bucky what was probably an excessive amount of mushy food and then proceeded to drape himself over the kitchen table as coffee percolated, half asleep and balanced precariously on the edge of his chair. He looked up when he heard someone staggering zombie-like into the kitchen.

“Morning, Pep,” Tony croaked.

Pepper grunted. She looked like she had spent the night sleeping outside, possibly while rolling around in the woods, rather than in her soft bed. Her hair was sticking up on one side, fluffed up in a delightful wave; she had dark bags under her eyes, and her eyes themselves were bloodshot. She groaned and clutched her stomach as she made it into the kitchen. She leaned against the table and reached around blindly for a chair, finding it after a slight struggle.

“Morning,” Pepper rasped.

Tony lifted his head weakly and smiled. “I take it someone had a little too much to drink last night?”

Pepper groaned again and lowered her head until it was touching the tabletop. “I didn’t even drink all that much,” she said. “Why am _I_ being punished because Rhodey brought beer?”

“I guess beer decided to get its revenge on all those involved,” Tony said. “Be glad you’re not Rhodey. He’s going to be dead to the world for a good five or six hours. I’ve got Jarvis keeping an eye on him just in case he decides to choke on his own puke or something equally as disgusting.”

Pepper groaned again. “Remind me to drink more water next time we have beer around,” she said. “Or better yet, just give me one of your root beers.”

Tony chuckled. Being hungover, even marginally so, was unpleasant. He was glad he didn’t have to deal with that anymore; it was the one thing about drinking that he didn’t miss.

“You feeling up for some nice buttery toast and coffee?” Tony asked, his cheek still pressed against the table.

“Toast, good,” Pepper said. “Coffee, better.”

“I think I can work with that,” Tony said.

“Rhodey, _bad_ ,” Pepper grumbled. “Remind me to smack him when he wakes up.”

“Oh, I’ll do that. I’m sure he’s suffering already, though,” Tony said.

“He will _never_ suffer enough for this indignity,” Pepper muttered.

Tony grinned. He let out a loud oomph when Bucky jumped up onto his back and sat down in between his shoulders, effectively pinning him to the table. Bucky rested his chin on the top of Tony’s head and yawned.

“I guess toast and coffee is going to have to wait,” Pepper said dryly.

“I guess so,” Tony said.

 

 

Pepper went to work after breakfast, having recovered enough to both work and look presentable. Tony admired her skills with make-up; it was the one form of magic he didn’t hate. If it had been him heading out to work while still _slightly_ hung-over, he wouldn’t have looked half as good as she had once she was done putting on her face. Mind you, she also used an iron to get rid of the wrinkles in her clothing before leaving the house, and that was special kind of magic all on its own.

Rhodey, on the other hand, had never been good at recovering quickly after drinking, and today was no exception. This morning, it took him seven hours to get up and stagger into the living room. By then, Tony had already started making breakfast; Pepper’s buttery toast and coffee had been easy, and he had had plenty of time to make something more substantial. Tony stirred pancake batter with Bucky sitting on the counter beside him, idly watching as Rhodey groaned, collapsed onto the couch and rolled over cursing the world, beer, and pigeons. Tony didn’t really know why Rhodey had a sudden beef with pigeons; he assumed it had to do with what Rhodey had been dreaming about while drunk.

“Remind me never to drink again,” Rhodey said with a groan.

“Alrighty,” Tony said. He poured a measured amount of pancake batter into a hot frying pan and hummed to himself while it cooked. These were plain pancakes. He had thought about putting some chocolate chips in to make them a little more flavorful, but with Bucky practically inhaling everything that made it to a plate, he figured it was safer for everyone involved if the pancakes remained plain and chocolate-free. Besides, a bland breakfast would be better for Rhodey’s stomach and the less puking that happened the better.

Bucky’s whiskers twitched as he watched the pancake batter bubble in the pan. Tony booped the cat on the nose with a smile.

“Anything new in our search?” Rhodey asked, rolling over again.

“Nothing yet,” Tony said. He had been keeping tabs on the search ever since he had found himself caffeinated enough to focus on the task, and so far the results were far from pleasing. It seemed like _nothing_ was happening – _anywhere_. Everyone who had reported in – the whole three managers who had answered their email and checked their messages in a timely fashion – had stated that nothing was out of place. All three had personally inspected their warehouses just to be on the safe side and had seen no signs of tampering or theft, aside from the normal plundering of food from the break-room fridge. SHIELD hadn’t even bothered to send him a report yet.

“I want to go out today,” Rhodey said.

“You feel up to it?” Tony asked.

“No, but I don’t want to stay here forever staring at this damn couch cushion,” Rhodey said.

“Fair enough,” Tony said. “Do you want me to make scrambled eggs?”

“Yes please,” Rhodey said. He lifted his head and stared balefully at Tony from over the arm rest. “Is there coffee?”

“I’ve got a fresh pot brewing,” Tony said. “It’ll be ready in ten minutes – give or take.”

“Good,” Rhodey said, collapsing back onto the couch.

“So I take it you’ve started your vacation in earnest now?” Tony asked.

Rhodey lifted his hand and flipped Tony the bird. “Screw you, man.”

“You wish,” Tony said, cheerfully. He flipped the pancake and got out a plate so he could stack them on it. He kept an eye on Bucky and wondered when the cat would make an attempt on the pancakes. He hoped it wouldn’t be soon, because everything was still molten hot.

Bucky let out a long sigh and spread out across the countertop on his belly. The cat was wearing the Iron Man t-shirt Happy had brought home. It was tucked neatly under him, and he seemed to appreciate that his belly wasn’t cold. He watched as Tony pulled an egg carton from the fridge, and stared blankly at the second frying pan Tony put on the burner across from the frying pan that was cooking the pancakes.

“Where did you want to go today?” Tony asked, cracking eggs into a bowl. He tossed some salt and pepper into the bowl and began stirring the eggs with a fork so they broke down into a yellowy mixture.

“I’ve got a ton of shopping to do while I’ve got time,” Rhodey said. “But we don’t have to go out on some massive trek this time.”

“Alright,” Tony said. “And you’re sure I can’t just order stuff in for you?”

“ _Fuck no_ ,” Rhodey said with a growl. “I want to try the clothes I’m getting on, and the other half of the stuff I’m getting is for my mom and her new apartment. Unlike you, I don’t like leaving things to chance – and I _don’t_ have time to return anything if it doesn’t work out.”

“Fine,” Tony said. “You know I could always do that for you though – and Pepper wouldn’t mind returning things either.”

“Its fine, man. At least this way I can get out of the house for a bit,” Rhodey said.

“I hope Bucky’s going to be alright with staying home by himself for a few hours,” Tony mused.

“You don’t want to take him with you?” Rhodey cocked an eyebrow. He pulled himself upright and staggered over to the kitchen table, collapsing into a chair. “I was thinking you could just bring him with you. He’s well behaved, and all.”

Tony snorted. “I’d love to drag his furry buns with us, but even I can’t get away with bringing a cat into the mall unless I want the paparazzi breathing down my neck,” he said. “Besides, it’ll be a faster trip if it’s just the two of us. We won’t be making any detours – aside from possibly hitting up a build-a-bear or something.”

“You’re after the new Captain America bear, aren’t you?” Rhodey said, chuckling.

“ _Maybe_ ,” Tony drawled. “There’s an Iron Man bear too, you know. I could be looking for _that_ one instead.”

Rhodey snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“Hey,” Tony said, gesturing at Rhodey with his spatula. “It’s a nice looking bear. Don’t give me that shit. I’m a grown man. I can buy a bear if I want to.”

“Sure,” Rhodey said.

“You have one already,” Tony muttered. “I know you had Pepper pick one up for you while you were away.”

Rhodey scowled. “When did you find that out?”

“I saw her playing with it,” Tony said, grinning widely. “She bought it a bunch of different outfits too.”

“ _Interesting_ ,” Rhodey said. “She only handed over the one set. I wonder what else she bought – and where it went.”

“She’s probably got her own bear,” Tony said with a shrug. “She’s got a collection of them too. She gives me shit about having Captain America stuff, but I know for a fact she’s got a little shelf of Cap stuff in her bedroom. It sits right next to her Black Widow collection and her Iron Man one.”

Rhodey chuckled. “Oh, it’s more than one _little_ shelf. And why, may I ask, is there no War Machine bear yet?”

“You’d have to ask Build-a-Bear that,” Tony said. He poured more batter into the pancake pan and then gently tipped the bowl of egg-goo into the other pan. He tended to the eggs more than the pancakes after that, knowing how easily they would burn.

“So,” Rhodey said, clearing his throat. “If we’re headed out to the mall, we can probably get your cat-friend some new clothes.”

“Good point,” Tony said. He beamed at Bucky, grinning from ear to ear. “What do you think, buddy? New outfits?”

Bucky sighed and closed his eyes.

“I guess he’s giving you permission,” Rhodey said, eyeing the plate of pancakes.

Tony grinned. “He’s so going to regret that.”

 

 

Tony looked down at Bucky; the cat was curled up in a ball on the couch, half asleep, full of pancakes and stolen scrambled eggs. “Ok,” Tony said, patting Bucky’s head. “Rhodey and I are going to head out now, so you’re going to have to behave yourself.”

Bucky let out a snort and opened one eye, fixing his gaze on Tony.

“Jarvis is going to watch you while we’re gone, ok?” Tony said. He felt silly for having a conversation with the cat, but part of him was nervous about leaving the fuzzball alone for the first time. It was possible that he would come home to a completely destroyed penthouse, and since he had no information from Steve about Bucky’s habits, the worst might just happen.

Bucky stood up and let out a loud meow.

“I know, it’s a big scary apartment but Jarvis’ll be right here with you the entire time,” Tony said, patting the cat again. “You’ll be fine. See you later, buddy.” Tony turned to leave and found Bucky’s claws attached to the bottom of his jacket. Sighing, he turned back to face the couch again so Bucky wouldn’t go flying. “Ok,” he said, reaching down to gently pry Bucky’s claws from his coat. “Very funny.” He patted Bucky on the head again and inched away from the couch backwards, his eyes on the cat.

Bucky dropped down onto the carpet and followed Tony towards the elevator.

Rhodey frowned. “Are you sure he’s not coming with us?”

“I’m sure,” Tony said. “Jarvis? Call the elevator, will you?”

“Done, sir,” Jarvis said.

Bucky sat down on Tony’s foot and glared up at him. He let out a loud meow.

“You’re staying home today,” Tony said, trying to sneak his foot out from under Bucky’s bulk.

Bucky let out a low, irritated, meow that was one step away from a growl and flicked his ears.

“Nope,” Tony said. The elevator doors opened behind him. “You’re staying home.”

Rhodey got into the elevator.

Tony stepped backwards into the elevator, trying to move quickly, but it was too late. Bucky sank his claws into Tony’s shoe and held on for dear life, refusing to let go.

“Hold the elevator,” Rhodey said with a sigh.

Tony bent down and picked Bucky up. “I know you want to come with us, but I really can’t bring you this time,” he said. He stroked a line down the bridge of Bucky’s nose. “Be a good boy and guard the house, ok?” He carried the cat over to the couch and set him down. “Here. Stay. Good cat.”

Tony turned and ran for the elevator. Bucky hit the floor with a thud and ran after him at top speed.

Rhodey hit the elevator close button and yanked Tony inside at the last second, leaving Bucky behind in the penthouse. They both sighed in relief.

“Shit,” Tony said, shaking his head. “Do you think Cap has to do that every time he leaves the house alone?”

“I don’t know,” Rhodey said. “But I bet if he does, that’s why he’s so buff. Damn, that cat moves _fast_.”

“Jarvis?” Tony said, leaning against the elevator wall as the elevator moved downwards. “How’s Bucky doing?” He cracked his knuckles, almost afraid of what he might hear.

“Mr. Barnes is scratching at the elevator door, and appears anxious,” Jarvis said.

Tony winced. “Do you think I should go back up there?”

“Leave him be for now. Pepper’s a few floors away,” Rhodey said. “If something happens, she can run upstairs and take care of it.”

“I guess you’re right,” Tony said, pursing his lips. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Pepper would _not_ be a happy camper if she had to drop everything to go up to the penthouse and wrangle an angry cat, but she wouldn’t refuse to do it; she’d complain relentlessly, but she wouldn’t leave Tony or Bucky in the lurch. They were going to have to find a way to repay her for being on babysitting duty – even if she didn’t have to go up to the penthouse. The easiest thing would be to stop off at the nearest chocolatier and stock up on white chocolate and hazelnut shells. At least now he had another store to head to aside from Build-a-Bear.

 

 

Tony and Rhodey returned to Stark Tower weighed down with bags and boxes. They had gone to damn near every store in the mall and had brought back more than they could handle. Happy had helped them carry half of their purchases to the elevator doors on the main floor, but couldn’t help them take it up to the penthouse – he had a date to hurry off to – and so they were left to their own devices.

The elevator opened under Jarvis’ control.

Tony and Rhodey dragged their things into the elevator, carpeting the floor with bags and walked in on the tips of their toes, trying to take up as little space as possible.

“Well,” Rhodey said, as the elevator doors closed. “I think we did a good job of getting _nothing_ on my list today.”

Tony nodded sagely. “I’m thinking your mom isn’t going to want any of this stuff, even if it was on sale.”

Rhodey sighed and put his head in his hands. “I swear to god, I didn’t think it would be that hard to resist a deal.”

“It’s not like you bought useless crap,” Tony said.

Rhodey lifted his head from his hands and glared at Tony.

“Ok,” Tony amended, “Well, you didn’t _entirely_ buy useless crap.”

Rhodey sighed heavily.

“We could take it back,” Tony offered.

“No!” Rhodey said, looking aghast. “I’ve been looking for some of this stuff for _years_! I’m not taking it back!”

Tony held up his hands. “Alright, alright. I won’t say it again,” he said.

Rhodey chuckled and pulled his jacket off, slinging it over his shoulder. “ _You’re_ the one who should take some of this crap back,” he said. He nodded to the build-a-bear cardboard box tucked neatly between Tony’s legs. “ _You_ bought stuffed animals.”

“Ha!” Tony said, pointing to the Build-a-Bear box sitting between Rhodey’s legs. “You did it too!”

“And Pepper will _never_ know,” Rhodey said.

“Nope,” Tony said. “Not unless Jarvis rats on us, and you wouldn’t do that, would you Jarvis?”

Jarvis sighed. “I would never ‘rat’ on you, sir.”

Tony grinned.

The elevator door opened with a ding.

Tony stared, mouth agape, at doorway of his penthouse. There were pillows strewn everywhere on the floor in front of the elevator, and sitting atop the largest and thickest of the couch cushions, was Bucky. The cat glared at the elevator door, the look so vicious, Tony was a little surprised that it hadn’t lit the cushions on fire from its intensity alone.

“Bucky bear? You ok, buddy?” Tony said, cautiously. He shuffle-stepped his way out from the elevator through a row of bags and stood in front of the cat, scratching his head. “What the hell happened here?”

Bucky stood up and dropped down from the cushion pile with a loud, shrieky meow and wound his way around Tony’s legs like a snake; he rubbed his face against Tony’s left shin and then moved on to scent-mark Tony’s right shin, purring the entire time. He paused to investigate Tony’s right shoe and then went on to smear his face all over Tony’s left shoe for good measure.

“Jarvis?” Tony said, his hands settling on his hips. “Why didn’t you say Bucky took the living room apart?”

“It seemed to calm Mr. Barnes, sir,” Jarvis said. “Mr. Barnes tired himself out after he finished dismantling the couch and spent the rest of the time you were away sleeping on his cushion pile.”

Tony huffed out a sigh and looked down at the pile blocking their way. Bucky had managed to collect every last pillow in the penthouse; the cat had even retrieved the pillows from the many guest bedroom too. Nothing had been overlooked. Bucky had even managed to get at the cushion Tony kept in his office for his back. Well, he supposed, idly humming to himself, at least nothing was shredded or needed replacing.

Rhodey stepped out of the elevator, wrestling with bags and gave Tony a nudge. “Move it or lose it, pal.”

Tony sighed louder and turned back to the elevator with Bucky dogging his every step. He picked up a bag and gave Bucky’s head a gentle pat; the cat leaned into his touch, rubbing his wet nose against Tony’s thumb. “See Buckeroo?” Tony said. “I told you we’d be fine. It’s all good – I’m home now.”

Bucky let out a loud, rumbled purr and rammed his head into Tony’s leg.

“This looks a lot better than I was expecting,” Rhodey said, stepping over the first layer of cushions. He hopped over the second layer and piled his bags up on the coffee table. “He didn’t even try to break into the cupboards.”

“What a time to be alive,” Tony said with a chuckle. He grabbed the Build-a-Bear box and carried it and a handful of bags over to the couch, carefully stepping over the cushions.

When they were finished dragging their shopping into the penthouse, Tony and Rhodey set about returning the cushions to their respective homes. It was a lot tougher than either of them expected; some of the cushions looked _suspiciously_ like they belonged in multiple places, which was just plain bizarre. Sure, Tony hadn’t gone around inspecting everything after he had ordered it in, but he had been pretty sure he hadn’t ordered ninety versions of the same damn thing; Jarvis would have stopped him – or at least, he _hoped_ Jarvis would have stopped him.

It took them an hour to get everything sorted out and once they were done, Rhodey carried his bags off to his room and returned wearing a dark brown leather jacket.

Tony collapsed onto the couch and stroked Bucky’s back as the cat circled and settled in his lap. “Heading out again?”

Rhodey nodded. “I’m going to get some more shopping done and then Pepper and I are going to have some Tony-free time.”

Tony scowled. “That’s _mean_.”

“We can’t exactly work on our plans for world domination when you’re in earshot, you know,” Rhodey said with a laugh.

“You’re still mean,” Tony said with a sniff.

“Deal with it,” Rhodey said. He tweaked Tony’s ear and headed off to the elevator. “I’ll bring you back food, and possibly Pepper if she decides to spend the night here again.”

“Fine,” Tony said, sighing as dramatically as he could. “Leave me behind.”

“See you in a few hours,” Rhodey said, not falling for the trap. “Let me know if Jarvis finds anything out about our thief – and don’t you dare leave here without me.”

“Fine,” Tony said. “That reminds me – I should check on the databases again before I fall asleep on my nice, squishy, couch.”

“Have fun playing with your ones and zeroes, then,” Rhodey said as he stepped into the elevator.

Tony flipped Rhodey off and dove into his computers with Extremis as the elevator doors closed with a click. There was a message waiting for him in his voicemail, and damn it, he was getting annoyed with the way he and Steve kept missing each other’s calls. Tony played Steve’s message three times, listening carefully in case he missed something and by the time he cut the message off, he wasn’t sure what he was more angry about – missing the call or hearing that Steve had no idea what to make of SI’s possible attackers. Tony ran his hands over his face and wondered whether he could get away with going to sleep; it had been a joke before, but now it was looking like an option. With no news about the thief, thefts-to-be, or missing stock from SI’s many warehouses, things were becoming more of a pain in the ass than he had expected. He was starting to miss the good old days when the people stealing from him hid badly and tried to murder him outright – at least _then_ the threats ended quickly. He gave his head a shake and let Extremis slip away; his vision returned and he took in the sight of Bucky’s furry face an inch away from his. He jerked back with a yelp and winced when Bucky’s claws dug into his shirt and pants.

“Holy _shit_ , cat,” Tony said, putting his hand over his heart. “Why do you insist on doing that? Are you _trying_ to kill me?”

Bucky sniffed at Tony’s chin and leaned closer; his whiskers tickled.

“Jarvis?” Tony said, wrinkling his nose as he tried desperately not to sneeze in Bucky’s face. “What do I have left to do on my project list – the one that’s for the Avengers, not the work list for SI. Give me something to do that’s not the Thievery list. I want to get my hands dirty in a good way.” He bumped his forehead against Bucky’s and was rewarded with the cat biting his nose.

“You currently have three major projects for the Avengers – War Machine not included,” Jarvis said.

“Upgrades to Widow Bites, Steve’s Stealth Suit and Falcon’s Wings, right?” Tony said, prodding Bucky in the nose. The cat backed up and nipped at the tip of Tony’s finger.

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis said. “Which would you like to work on? And are you planning on utilizing your workshop, or are will you be working up here?”

Tony drummed his fingers on the top of Bucky’s head. The cat let out a snort and hopped off of Tony’s lap; he clunked his way into the kitchen and walked over to his dish, giving it a sniff.

Tony stood up and looked down at his grumbling stomach. Maybe Bucky had the right idea. A snack before work sounded good, and it had been hours since breakfast.

 

Clutching a plate of turkey, cranberry and Swiss cheese sandwiches made with the squishiest bread Tony had ever eaten – he was going to have to thank Happy for finding it and order him to get more while he was at it – Tony stepped into the elevator with Bucky following along like a baby duckling. He waited until the cat was safely within the elevator before using Extremis to close the elevator doors, and sent the elevator to his workshop. When they arrived, he opened the door again with Extremis and held an arm out. “You first, Mr. Bossypants,” he said.

Bucky stepped out of the elevator. He zipped past Tony’s feet and nearly collided with the glass door separating the rest of the room from the workshop. He turned slowly as Tony approached and let out a low growl, smacking his good paw against the glass.

Tony snorted. “Really? You’re the one who insisted on running ahead.”

Bucky sneezed.

“Right. You’re the boss. I forgot,” Tony said. He let Jarvis operate the workshop’s doors and stepped through, hurrying over to his worktable so he could deposit the plate before Bucky tried to take a run at Dummy again. The bot, however, remained in his charging station and while he clearly wanted to come over and say hi, Dummy seemed to remember what moving would make Bucky do.

Feeling bad about neglecting the bot, Tony walked over to Dummy and gave him a pat, keeping an eye on Bucky as the cat explored the workshop. “What do you think he’s doing, Jarvis?” Tony said. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was securing the perimeter.”

“It seems that way, sir,” Jarvis said. “I am not familiar with cat behavior, but from my research, it appears Mr. Barnes is indeed looking for hazards.”

“Huh,” Tony said. He sat down at his work table and picked up a sandwich, all the while using Extremis to pull up a holographic version of Natasha’s latest Widow Bites. He nibbled as he pulled the Widow Bites apart, moving the blueprints around so he could see what needed to be done in order to increase the Bites’ electrical output. He had promised Natasha he would make them more energy efficient and powerful, and he intended to keep that promise – Pepper would kick him in the shins if he didn’t.

Bucky jumped up onto Tony’s work table and nosed at one of the sandwiches near the edge of the plate. He stole half of it and dragged it away so he could sit beside Tony and eat.

Tony scowled. It wasn’t like he hadn’t fed the cat. He’d filled Bucky’s mushy food bowl to the brim before he had made the damn sandwiches; Bucky was starting to seem more like a bottomless pit than a cat. Tony pulled the sandwich away from Bucky and tore it up into bite sized pieces that the furry bastard couldn’t choke on. “Remind me to keep an eye on his food intake, Jarvis,” Tony said, watching as Bucky made short work of the pile of sandwich bits. “If I don’t, the next time we’re at the vet they’re going to tell me he’s fat and needs to be put on a diet.”

“Yes, sir. Might I remind you that Mr. Barnes’ appointment with the vet is tomorrow?” Jarvis said.

Tony groaned and leaned back in his chair. Shit. Jarvis was right – it was almost time to take Bucky to the vet again for a checkup; he had almost forgotten about that. That meant he was definitely not pulling an all-nighter tonight. So much for getting work done. Tony rubbed at his eyes with the backs of his hands. “Remind Rhodey and Pepper of the appointment, will you?” Tony said. “If I’m getting up, they’re coming with me.”

“Done, sir. Do you wish to pass on any other information to Colonel Rhodes and Ms. Potts?”

“Not yet,” Tony said, turning his attention back to the hologram. “Let them enjoy their date-night.”

 

Two hours later, Tony looked up from the Widow Bites hologram, his fingers idly carding through Bucky’s fur. He had made improvements, sure, but not enough for his liking. He hadn’t touched Steve’s suit yet, and he likely wouldn’t get to it tonight. Maybe there was another way to get on Steve’s good side. He wanted to see Bucky again after he was done babysitting the cat, and that might mean sucking up to an extent. He drummed his fingers on Bucky’s head and smiled when he realized that the cat had fallen asleep with the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth. He used Extremis to take pictures, afraid that if he opened his mouth to get Jarvis to do it, the fluffball would wake up and move. When he was finished, he emailed the pictures off to Steve and pushed the Widow Bites file away, pulling up a new folder – one he hadn’t looked at in a while. This was James Bucky Barnes’ file – the Winter Soldier’s file, one he had stolen directly from SHIELD’s most secure servers. He took a breath and flipped the file open, his fingers delicately skimming the blue hologram text.

Bucky opened an eye and shifted until his chin was rested on Tony’s knee.

Tony flipped to the next page. Everything here was old, of course. Updates had been sparse. This file was something he had memorized, but that didn’t mean he was wasting time reading it over again. There might just be something here that could lead to Barnes’ location and he found it easier to pick out details when they were fresh in his mind. Steve had seemed so sure he could catch up to the Winter Soldier after Hydra’s destruction, but there was still no sign of the Winter Soldier. If he could find Bucky Barnes, he might just get on Steve’s good side permanently.

Bucky’s claws dug into Tony’s knee as he stood up.

“What’s up, buddy?” Tony said, stroking a line down Bucky’s back, fingers tangling in the cat’s Iron Man shirt. “Getting bored?”

Bucky dropped down to the floor.

Tony kept his gaze on the file floating in front of him. There had to be something here. There had to be – because if there wasn’t, he was going to have to find something else to do to keep himself in Steve’s good graces. He wanted kitty visitation rights, and no matter what Pepper said, he didn’t entirely believe that Steve would let him visit the cat.

“Sir?” Jarvis said. His voice was a whisper in Tony’s ear, put there by Extremis.

“Yes?” Tony said, replying via Extremis. If Jarvis wanted a private conversation – as weird as that seemed – he’d follow along.

“I believe Mr. Barnes is unhappy,” Jarvis said.

Tony frowned. The picture of the Winter Soldier he had floating in front of him glowered as he caressed it with his hand. Bucky Barnes – the Winter Soldier – was beautiful despite the way Hydra had tried to hide him under layers of confining leather, but while there was a lot to be said about the man’s rippling muscles and broad shoulders, there was a distinctly lost look in the Winter Soldier’s eyes. There was sadness there that was impossible to ignore. Jarvis was right. Mr. Barnes probably was an unhappy man. After all the things the Winter Soldier had gone though, how could the man _not_ be hurting?

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes’ file was a painful read; informative, horrific and painful. Through it, Tony had learned about the technology Hydra had used on the Winter Soldier in order to get the man to comply. He knew how the bastards had wiped the good from the Soldier’s mind every time the Soldier had tried to fight back and reclaim even a scrap of the man he had once been. Tony had seen the blueprints for the tech that had done the dirty deed; he had seen pictures of The Chair. Hydra had kept those little gems intact and ready for use even though they could ostensibly be used against them. The risk had been deemed necessary – the payout, the ability to strip people down into malleable slaves, had been too good to pass up.

That wasn’t even the worst thing in the file – not by a long shot.

Tony had learned all about the Winter Soldier’s cybernetic arm and how it had been attached without permission – how it caused the soldier pain with every flex of muscle whether it was damaged or fully functional. The scientists who had built the arm and installed it had written everything down as they had tested it out; they had destroyed only the blueprints for the arm – all the bitter steps had been recorded in loving detail. Bucky’s file contained description of each step of the Soldier’s development, from human to Asset, with no detail left out.

Hydra had been ruthless in their quest to dominate the human body. Bucky Barnes was to have been the first of many Soldiers – or so they had dreamed. Their tricks hadn’t worked on anyone else. Zola’s serum had been in the Bucky Barnes’ body before the Soldier’s creation, and no one had been able to reproduce it – not even Zola. Alexander Pierce, one of Hydra’s top brass, had been furious by the failure. He had pushed Hydra’s scientists to keep working on reproducing the Soldier, Zola’s Serum, and even the Super Soldier Serum, but nothing had come out of it – well, nothing _good_. There had been failures, creatures created from beaten, subdued men who had gone under the knife and chemical conditioning – and when they had died they had been cut apart and preserved for future testing. Hydra’s scientists had left nothing sacred, nothing soft, nothing _safe_. Most of the organs and stored tissue had been burned to prevent SHIELD from getting access to them, but a few remained in storage within SHIELD.

Hydra had done more than just torture and test their Asset – their Winter Soldier; they had made the Soldier kill for them. The details were patchy, as information about the Soldier’s activities had been written down with only brief description. Some of the Soldier’s activities had been brutal; some of them, strangely gentle, but in the end it had still all been murder. Those Hydra had liked had received less brutal deaths, while others had been torn apart and tormented for hours. Most of the deaths, thankfully – and Tony had never though he would use the word _thankfully_ when describing an assassination before – had been quick. Most of the time had been spent on the cover-up.

SHIELD had a list of some of the men and women Hydra had had killed; they suspected there were more murders that were unaccounted for, but there was no way to know how many or when the murders had happened. Howard and Maria Stark had been part of that list – part of the Soldier’s victims; Tony’s insides had felt like they had liquefied when he had seen their names in the Winter Soldier’s file for the first time. Their deaths, and Jarvis’, had haunted Tony ever since he had lost them in his youth to a car crash. But it hadn’t been a plain old crash. It had been an _orchestrated_ car crash, a murder so heavily masked, no one had known what it truly was until the Winter Soldier’s file had fallen into SHIELD’s hands.

Tony wanted to hate the Soldier – he tried, he really did – but he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than sympathy for the man. He liked to think he wouldn’t have done the same things if he had been in the Soldier’s shoes, but he knew it was unlikely he could have avoided becoming a tool for Hydra – just like the Soldier. The Winter Soldier hadn’t been a man to Hydra; he had been a weapon – a piece of technology and property to be used and thrown around when needed, and nothing more. There had been no choice there for the Soldier – no yes, or no questions. There was nothing to blame the Soldier for – at least not in Tony’s mind.

Despite Hydra’s love of boasting and paperwork, SHIELD’s files on the Winter Soldier and Hydra made it clear that there were things they would never know about what had gone on behind the scenes; some of what had been done had never been written down, or if it had, the information had been destroyed. The only one who knew entirely what had gone on with the Winter Soldier was the Winter Soldier himself. This assumed, of course, that the Winter Soldier remembered what had happened to him. After all the brain-washing, all the mind-wiping, it was hard to tell what would live on in the Winter Soldier’s mind – in _Bucky Barnes_ ’ mind.

Tony took in a shuddered breath and wrapped his arms around his middle, nervous and saddened by what he had read; he always felt like this after reading Bucky’s file.

“Sir? Did you hear me?” Jarvis said, his voice loud and clear in Tony’s head via Extremis.

“What?” Tony said, aloud, blinking away afterimages of the Soldier’s face.

“Mr. Barnes looks unhappy, sir,” Jarvis said with a sigh, speaking through the workshop’s speakers.

Tony frowned. “Of course the guy looks unhappy,” he said, gesturing to the image floating in front of him. “It’s not like they threw him pizza parties and told him bedtime stories. They turned him into a killing machine.”

“It’s not the Winter Soldier I’m talking about, sir,” Jarvis said, his voice echoing off the workshop’s walls. “I’m talking about Mr. Barnes, the _cat_.”

Tony used the workshop’s cameras to find Bucky, curious about why Jarvis was so concerned. It was easier to spot Bucky than expected. Bucky was sitting outside of the workshop, huddled against the glass doors, his head hanging low. Tony’s heart clenched unpleasantly. The cat did not look happy – Jarvis was right. Tony shook his head and pushed the Winter Soldier’s file out of its holographic existence with Extremis. He stood up as the last of the file’s pixels vanished and patted his thighs, trying to call Bucky over to him. “Hey, sweetie,” he cooed. “What’s wrong Buckeroo?”

Bucky didn’t move.

Tony started sweating. Shit. Had something happened to the cat? Had Bucky made himself sick by eating all of that goddamned sandwich? Was something wrong?

Tony walked over slowly, keeping his steps even and solid. He knelt in front of the cat. “Bucky?”

Bucky let out a sigh and curled further into a ball, turning his face away from Tony.

“Oh, _honey_ ,” Tony said, softly. He hesitated and then reached out to touch Bucky’s head.

The cat didn’t move.

Tony stroked the fur between Bucky’s ears. “It’s ok, buddy. Are you feeling sick?”

Bucky let out a sigh and continued to stare at the floor.

“Jarvis? How long has he been sitting like this?” Tony asked, quietly.

“He has been sitting in that position for the past forty minutes, sir,” Jarvis said.

“What are his vitals like? Is anything off? Do you think he’s hurt or something?” Tony asked, his words rushed. He scooped Bucky up, all too aware that the move could earn him a bite. He cradled the cat against his belly and adjusted Bucky’s shirt. He caressed Bucky’s soft ears. Please, he thought, please let nothing be wrong.

“I have not noticed any change in Mr. Barnes’ temperature or heartbeat. I’m afraid I’m unable to tell if this is simply normal behavior or symptomatic,” Jarvis said. “Mr. Barnes appears uncomfortable, but he does not seem to be in any pain.”

Tony slouched forwards, hugging Bucky tighter. “Alright,” he said, grimly. “I’ll talk with the vet about it tomorrow I guess.”

“Would you like me to call the vet ahead and have her answers available for you in the morning?” Jarvis asked.

“No,” Tony said. “We’re supposed to be there at 9:30. It’s probably fine – he’s probably fine.” Tony stood up, tucking Bucky against his chest with his arms keeping the cat’s cast-clad leg tucked neatly against his hip and stalked over to the elevator. “Are Pepper and Rhodey back from their Tony-basing session?” he asked as the elevator doors opened. He stepped inside the elevator.

“Ms. Potts and Colonel Rhodes are in the lobby, waiting for an elevator,” Jarvis said.

“Good,” Tony said.

 

 

Tony sat wedged between Rhodey and Pepper with his tablet in one hand and a bowl of Kung Paw Chicken rice and Sweet and Sour pork in the other. Bucky was curled up Tony’s lap in a perfect ball. He wasn’t quite sleeping but he wasn’t actively sniffing at Tony’s food either.

Tony had been lucky; Pepper and Rhodey had had their alone time, and it had apparently made them feel guilty enough to bring back more food than normal. He had already finished off the container of milk tea they had brought for him and it had pleasantly numbed his tongue against the spice in the chilies. There was a Styrofoam container of deep fried buns and condensed milk waiting for him on the coffee table; he wasn’t sure whether he would have room for them or not, but either way they were going to get eaten. Tony worked on Steve’s uniform slowly, eating after every few taps to the tablet.

Bucky was _quiet_. It was spooky. The cat had looked interested in the food initially, but when Tony hadn’t given him any of it due to the fact that the rice was littered with red chilies, he had curled up in a ball and tucked his nose into Tony’s hip as though sulking. Tony wasn’t sure what to think about that. He continued to work, only half-listening to the movie playing on the television across from him, wondering all the while if he was doing the right thing by focusing on work instead of Bucky.

Rhodey and Pepper were quiet too. They hadn’t said much about their dinner aside from that they had decided to go get Taiwanese food, and while Tony wasn’t interested in prodding them for information he still kind of wanted to know what they had talked about.

Rhodey lifted his pillow up, setting it down beside him and looked down at Bucky. “Is he alright?” he asked, frowning down at the cat.

“I don’t know,” Tony said.

“He looks a little _off_ ,” Pepper said, pursing her lips. “Did he eat anything funny?”

“He had a sandwich two hours ago,” Tony said. He frowned and corrected himself. “He had _part_ of a sandwich after eating a bowl of mushy food. I don’t think he’s eaten anything weird in between or before that, because Jarvis would have said something.”

“Indeed, sir,” Jarvis said. “Mr. Barnes’ food intake has been unusual for a cat, but not out of the ordinary for Mr. Barnes.”

Pepper sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tame a tangled wave in her bangs. “I see,” she said. “When’s his appointment with the vet again?”

“9:30 in the morning tomorrow,” Tony said, not looking up from his tablet.

“Good,” Pepper said, leaning against Tony’s shoulder. “I’m sure she won’t mind getting pestered with questions. Better to know then to put it off until something really is wrong.”

“Exactly,” Tony said. He saved the latest iteration of Steve’s suit to his private server and contemplated going to sleep as he chewed through another forkful of rice. It was almost ten p.m. and while he wasn’t exactly _tired_ , he knew he was going to have to get up early the next morning; dragging his ass out of bed at seven thirty in order to get ready was going to take a lot of effort, and if he went now he could sleep in till at least seven forty five without making them late.

“No news from the thief?” Rhodey asked.

“Nope,” Tony said, setting his empty plate down. “Nothing yet. SHIELD hasn’t even put up a file on our mystery lady, but we’ll know as soon as they do. Jarvis is keeping an eye on them for me.”

“Good,” Rhodey said. “I can’t believe they haven’t found anything out yet. Seems like they’re dropping the ball.”

“Or they’re just not writing anything down,” Pepper said.

Tony scowled. “You never know,” he said. Fucking SHIELD and their mind games. SHIELD always stalled with information if they thought they could get something out of it. If they thought they were going to keep him out of the loop by not telling him what their thief had said under interrogation, they had another thing coming.

Rhodey stood up with a jaw-cracking yawn. “Ok. Well, I’m off to bed.”

Pepper smiled tiredly at him. “I think I’ll head off too,” she said. She didn’t stand up though; instead, she curled against Tony’s side and closed her eyes.

Tony smiled. He could work for a few more hours on his tablet if no one else was heading off to bed.

Rhodey sat back down with a sigh and leaned against Tony’s other shoulder. “ _Jackasses_ ,” he said. “Making me sleep on the couch.”

 

 

Tony woke up the next morning in his own bed. He had no idea how he had got there, but somehow during the night he had managed to make his way back to his room. He had a sneaking suspicion that Rhodey had been responsible for his sudden teleportation; Pepper was strong, but she couldn’t carry dead weight. He patted the pillow beside him, bleary with sleep, and found the bed empty.

That was strange. Bucky _should_ have been there sleeping on his pillow. The cat hadn’t slept anywhere else before.

Struggling upright, Tony fought off his blankets and stood up. He dropped to his knees and checked under his bed. Low and behold, there was Bucky.

“Hey, buddy,” Tony said, his voice going soft.

Bucky turned his face away from Tony and curled up into a tighter ball.

“Jarvis? When did he end up under the bed?” Tony asked. He wanted to crawl under the bed and prod Bucky to see if the cat was alright, but he didn’t want to lose a hand by trying it.

“Mr. Barnes arrived in your bedroom approximately two hours after you were carried to bed by Colonel Rhodes,” Jarvis said. “Mr. Barnes did not join you on the bed as expected, sir. He proceeded directly underneath it and has not emerged since.”

Tony gnawed on his lower lip. “Did he look sick?”

“I am unsure, sir,” Jarvis said. “He appeared in good health when he came into your room.”

“Great,” Tony said with a groan. With Bucky hiding under the bed, it would be impossible to get him out. He would just have to get ready to go and then try and coax the cat out afterwards.

Tony stood up. He pulled on a pair of charcoal-grey slacks and fished a semi-ironed white shirt out of his cupboard, pulling it on while searching for a pair of clean socks; he found them in the dresser drawer closest to the floor and made a mental note via Extremis to remember to put them back in the right place the next time he did laundry. Finally dressed, Tony made his way out of his room.

Pepper was sitting at the kitchen, dressed in light pink sweatpants and an oversized white Stark Industries sweater. Rhodey sat beside her, wearing grey sweatpants and a baggy MIT sweater. They both looked like they could use a coffee or two, but neither of them had bothered to make a pot. Bucky’s cat carrier was sitting on the table, open and waiting for use.

Tony made his way over to the coffee pot.

“Don’t bother with the coffee,” Rhodey said.

Tony sighed and hung his head. Shit. He checked the time with Extremis and saw that despite his best efforts, and the alarm he had set, he had slept in. “No coffee?” he asked, hoping his was wrong.

“We don’t have enough time. We all slept in despite Jarvis yelling for us to wake up,” Rhodey said, looking shamefaced. “And now there’s some construction on the route we were going to take and if we waste time making coffee, we won’t get until nine forty five.”

“Construction?” Tony said with a groan. “ _Really_?” At eight in the morning on a Saturday there was construction? He had the worst luck!

“I checked it out with your secret-spy-camera network,” Rhodey said with a tired smile. “It’s legit, not some kind of trap. The gelato place next-door to the vet is getting renovations done and they’re blocking the road for a few hours because they need to haul new furniture inside.”

“ _Great_ ,” Tony said with a grunt. No coffee and increased travel time? And it wasn’t a trap? Today was starting to suck even more.

“Where’s Mr. Barnes?” Pepper asked. She patted the cat carrier. “His ride’s here.”

“He’s hiding under my bed,” Tony said.

“Ok,” Rhodey said slowly. “So how exactly are we planning to get him out?”

“Luring him with food seems like a good way to make him come running,” Pepper said. “You should try tapping his bowl.”

“Good idea,” Tony said.

“That’s why you pay me the big bucks,” Pepper said with a laugh.

Tony went into the kitchen and took Bucky’s mushy-food bowl from the drying rack. He carried it over to the living room and drummed on it with his fingers; the bowl made a delightful jingling noise. “Bucky,” Tony crooned. “Come on, buddy. Breakfast.”

Bucky didn’t appear.

“Maybe he _knows_ we’re taking him to the vet,” Rhodey said, leaning heavily against the table.

“He doesn’t exactly speak English,” Pepper said. “I don’t know. How could he have figured it out?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said. He set the food bowl down on the kitchen table. “I’ll try and slide him out from under the bed. Wish me luck.”

 

Twenty minutes later, Tony’s knees were aching and Bucky was still hiding under the bed despite multiple bribes. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to grab the cat and pull him out unless they absolutely had to, but they were running out of time.

“Bucky? Sweetheart? Cutie-pie?” Tony said, the upper half of his body underneath the bed. He tried to stroke Bucky’s head but the cat jerked away and curled up into a tighter ball. Tony cringed. This wasn’t good. He tried not to panic and then allowed himself a little. “Bucky? Puddie-pie? We’ve got to take you to the vet so we can make sure you’re healing alright. Please come out.”

Bucky opened one eye.

“Come out, Bucky,” Tony said. “We’re already late and I’d really love to get out of here before someone kills me because they haven’t had any coffee.”

Bucky sighed and stood up. He walked past Tony, keeping out of range of Tony’s hands, and stalked into the living room.

Tony scrambled out from under the bed. He tried to nonchalantly walk towards the kitchen, and nearly choked on his own spit when he saw Bucky walk _directly_ into the cat carrier and sit down. “Did he just? Did he really do that?” Tony said, his mouth agape.

Rhodey stared down at the cat carrier, his eyes wide. “Are we all high or something? Because that did not just happen.”

“I am unaware of any drugs in the water or air, sir,” Jarvis said. “My scans indicate everything is normal.”

“Ok,” Tony said, shaking his head. “So we’re asleep.”

“Definitely sleeping,” Rhodey said, nodding rapidly.

Pepper closed the cat carrier door and rolled her eyes. “We’re awake. If we _were_ sleeping, there would be a naked Captain America helping us take his cat to the vet.” She picked the cat carrier up, though about it and handed it off to Tony. “Let’s get this show on the road. Happy’s waiting for us in the parking lot.”

 

 

The Playful Pet Vet office was mostly empty, aside from three other people with cat carriers; all of the other pet owners looked sleep deprived and nervous. No one was manning the front desk, but the computer was turned on and a cup of coffee sat beside the keyboard, waiting to be drunk. Tony, Rhodey and Pepper walked over to a padded bench and sat down. Tony cradled the cat carrier on his lap, his arms wrapped around it, and waited impatiently for the woman at the front desk to call their name.

“It’ll be fine,” Pepper said, patting Tony’s arm.

Tony sighed. Bucky was probably just upset about having to go back to the vet. Or maybe the sandwich had made the little guy’s tummy sore or something. It wasn’t like Bucky had been hiding under the bed for a _day or two_ ; it had been, _realistically_ , only five or six hours at most since Bucky had started acting weird. The cat was probably fine. He was panicking over nothing – that was all. It was nothing.

The doors behind the front desk opened and a vet tech stepped out. She stopped just behind the desk and looked around at the people in the waiting room. “Mr. Barnes?” she said. She wasn’t the vet tech they had seen last time; she had long, green hair that fell down to her hip and emerald green eyes. She was wearing powder blue scrubs and had a clipboard tucked under one arm. “Good morning,” she said, when Tony, Pepper and Rhodey stood up.

“Morning,” Tony grunted.

“I’ll take Mr. Barnes in now so we can get a quick blood draw and check his stitches,” the vet tech said. She smiled widely and held out her hand for the cat carrier.

Tony didn’t want to hand Bucky over. He didn’t know why, but the feeling was so strong, he nearly turned around and walked straight out the front door. When he didn’t move, Pepper elbowed him; he stared sullenly at her, and held out the cat carrier to the vet tech, calculating the odds of something bad happening in his head. It was probably fine. It was early in the morning and he was caffeine deprived. He was probably reading into things. He ran his fingers through his hair and gritted his teeth.

“Thanks,” the vet tech said, flashing Tony a toothy grin. “You can wait in the room on the left – the one with the _mouse_ on the door.” She carried Bucky over to the main doors behind the front desk, her curvaceous hips swaying as she walked and disappeared.

Pepper put a hand on Tony’s shoulder and guided him over to the examination rooms as he glared at the vet tech. “It’ll be fine,” she said.

They followed the vet tech’s directions and went into the room with the mouse on the door. It was quiet inside, smelled like disinfectant, and looked exactly like the other examination room they had seen a week before when they had first come to get Bucky medical attention; it became quieter still when Rhodey shut the door behind them, sealing them in.

They sat together in a line on the padded bench.

The door opposite them opened with a creak twenty minutes later. Melody stepped inside, looking cheerful – and possibly a bit manic, if the glint in her eye meant what Tony thought it did. She had Bucky’s carrier in hand. “Good morning, everyone,” she said, her voice bordering on shrill. She set the cat carrier down on the floor under the exam table and swallowed hard, bracing herself against the steel exam table.

Tony tensed. “What’s wrong?” Oh god. Something _was_ wrong. He had been right!

“Nothing’s wrong. They’re taking Mr. Barnes’ stitches out right now,” Melody said, quickly. Her smile cracked a little. She looked over her shoulder at the door she had come out of and then looked over at the other door. She licked her lips. “Sorry, it’s been a busy morning. I’ve had a few unexpected guests and they’ve taken up a lot of my time. I really should have had a cup of coffee, but I keep forgetting to drink it once I pour one.”

Pepper smiled. “I know the feeling. Don’t worry about it. We’re coffee deprived too,” she said.

Melody shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Well, as I’ve always said, better to have too little coffee than too much.” She smiled nervously.

Tony leaned forwards. “So Bucky’s healed up then?” He clasped his hands in front of him on his lap and resisted the urge to tug at his fingers.

“Yes,” Melody said, nodding. “Mr. Barnes is fine. He’s healed up very quickly – it’s surprising how fast that happened. It’s almost like he as super powers.”

Tony relaxed a little. “That’s good. That’s great. Uh, I’ve got a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” Melody said. “Ask away.” She looked over her shoulder again and looked back at Tony.

“I noticed that Bucky’s been acting a little funny since last night,” Tony admitted.

“Oh?” Melody said. She looked over her shoulder at the door behind her and bit her lower lip. “What have you noticed?”

“He hasn’t been as affectionate as he usually is,” Tony said. He noted Melody’s quick glance at the door again. Something wasn’t right here – Melody hadn’t acted like this when they had seen her earlier in the week. Even caffeine deprived, she shouldn’t have been acting so strange.

“He’s not being affectionate? Anything else?” Melody asked.

Tony shrugged and turned to Rhodey. “I don’t know – it’s probably just my imagination. He’s a weird cat, that’s all. So when’s he going to be coming back in here? We really want to head out for breakfast with the rest of the Avengers. They’re waiting for us.”

Pepper smiled again. “That’s right. The Avengers are waiting at home for us,” she said. “We’re heading out for pancakes the minute we step out the door here.”

“Yep,” Rhodey said. “You know how it is. Super soldiers and Hulks eat a lot – pancakes help a little, but we’ll probably be cleaning the place out.”

Melody looked relieved. “Oh – good. Good. That’s an excellent idea. The Avengers should have a nice day out after all the super villains they’ve fought.”

“Who’s your favourite?” Tony said, grinning. His eyes glinted dangerously.

“I don’t have a favourite, but there are so many active ones around these days,” Melody said loudly. She leaned forwards and mouthed ‘run’ before swallowing hard again and looking back at the door.

Tony froze, his grin still plastered to his face. What the hell was going on? Was someone in the back, waiting to attack them? Had someone snuck in somehow? And if so, who could it be? Was this their thief’s friend’s way of getting even?

“So Mr. Barnes will be back soon?” Pepper said, her voice almost a growl. “Thor’s going to want to see him again. You know how he is – he likes to hit things with his hammer when he doesn’t get his way. All of the Avengers are very fond of him – they’re fond of all of us.”

“That’s good to hear,” Melody said. She was shaking when she pulled her arms away from the examination table. “I’ll uh – I’ll go check on him right now.” She turned around. She took a deep breath and pulled the door open.

Rhodey, Pepper and Tony tensed; they didn’t have time to move.

The attack came from behind them – not from the door Melody had opened.

Melody was knocked into the wall, hit by someone with a scarred face, coarse facial hair, short cropped black hair and a toothy grin.

Tony felt the sting of a needle in his neck. He saw Pepper’s blurry face and heard Rhodey’s shouts as he fell into darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know if you spot anything weird and I'll fix it! I apologize in advance for the cliffhanger - I swear, it had to happen hahaha!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony didn't like waking up in a cell - unfortunately, it had happened again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Rumlow threatening Tony with sexual assault and psychological torture. Also warnings for Rumlow stripping Tony (not actually seen) and Rumlow being a creepy creep in general.

There was something scratchy pressed against his cheek, and whatever it was smelled distinctly of sweat, body odor and dust. Tony opened his eyes sluggishly. It felt like someone had tried to stick a red, hot, poker through his brain and had forgotten to take it back out after. He looked around, trying not to jostle his brain any more than necessary and saw through watery eyes that he was in a large windowless room, one barren except for the stained, crusty, mattress he was lying on. The room was lit by some kind of pot-light that was hidden away in the high ceiling.

There was a door at the end of the room, but it seemed very far away, as though it was off in the distance, like some kind of dream of a door, rather than the real thing. Tony wondered idly if his attackers had given him something more than just a knock-out drug when they had taken him down. Normally, doors didn’t move around, after all. He rolled himself onto his side to assess the damage done to his body and was surprised to see that he had been stripped of his clothing and shoes. He was now wearing a pair of black sweat pants and a white, short-sleeved t-shirt. His kidnappers were obviously afraid that he was going to break out– they had taken no chances and left him nothing of his own.

Someone cleared their throat. The sound made Tony flinch. He looked around, lifting his head this time, afraid that he had missed something in his previous inspection, but there was no one around to be seen. The sound had come from a speaker hidden away somewhere in the room.

“I see you’re awake,” a woman’s voice said. Tony recognized those honeyed tones even though he had only heard them once. This was the Vet Tech who had taken Bucky away. He had known something was wrong – _goddamn it!_ Why had he handed Bucky over so easily? Why hadn’t he listened to his gut?

“There’s no sense in moping, Mr. Stark,” the woman said. “Why don’t you sit up and take a look around?”

“I can see everything just fine from where I am, thanks,” Tony grunted into the mattress as he flopped back down onto it on his belly. His limbs felt heavy, like he was trapped on a human-sized piece of flypaper; he wouldn’t be moving anytime soon – even if he tried to force himself. He hoped the drugs they had used on him would wear off soon because he did not want to spend the rest of the night lying in a puddle of his own drool.

“Fine,” the woman said. She sounded weary, as though she had been addressing a particularly pesky child. “I suppose we’ll just have to wait for you to recover then before we speak.”

Tony sighed. “Did you take Rhodey and Pepper with me?” He tried to keep his voice calm despite the way fear was sending images of Pepper and Rhodey’s bloody, beaten faces into his mind. Rhodey knew how to take care of himself, he reminded himself – Rhodey would be alright, but Pepper wasn’t as used to being in the line of fire. No. Pepper would be fine. Rhodey would be fine. If they were unlucky and Rhodey and Pepper had ended up being dragged along for the ride, it would be bad, yes, but Rhodey would be able to keep Pepper safe. If Pepper had been left somewhere alone, she wouldn’t be helpless; Pepper was one of the most capable people Tony knew, and even if Pepper couldn’t escape on her own, she would find a way to get free. Besides – her captors wouldn’t be lucky to have her in their grasp. Whoever it was that had taken Pepper would learn the true meaning of pain when The Black Widow came hunting for them.

“Colonel Rhodes and Ms. Potts are here with us, I’m afraid,” the woman said. She laughed, the sound cold and sharp. “But you’re not going to get to see them unless you _really_ displease me, so I wouldn’t worry too much about them. Tell me, Mr. Stark. Are you planning something _already_?”

Sweat dripped down the side of his face. Tony smiled weakly. If what his captor was saying was true – if Pepper and Rhodey were being kept around as motivation to make sure he behaved – he _definitely_ wouldn’t be doing anything rash. He would gladly throw away his life if it meant keeping the world safe, but Rhodey and Pepper’s lives weren’t so easily discarded. “You don’t need to worry,” he said quickly. “I’ll behave. I’m not planning anything.”

“Excellent,” the woman said. “I’ll give you a few hours to think about what you’ve gotten yourself into and then you can decide whether you want to stand up and have our conversation or not.”

Tony swallowed hard. He needed to get a handle on this and fast. He was trapped in a cell, but that didn’t mean he was cut off from the world – he had trackers in his bodies to check, and if they were still there, the Avengers would come running. He smiled grimly. Things weren’t hopeless. He closed his eyes in order to concentrate, and tried to access Extremis to see what he could see, needing to know if there were any systems around he could tap into. He promptly passed out as pain lanced its way through his body. He didn’t even have time to let out a scream.

 

When Tony woke up, he had to take a minute to make sure that his head hadn’t actually been squeezed in a vice. He felt weaker than before; he couldn’t even lift his head this time. Accessing Extremis had been a bad idea. Damn it! He felt like he was swimming in sweat, and there was a puddle of drool under his cheek that hadn’t been there before. He had been unconscious, but he couldn’t tell how long he had been out for. Were the Avengers on the way? Had they received a ping from the trackers before he had been knocked out? Or had his trackers been neutralized the moment they had been captured? Someone had figured out how to turn off Extremis – it was effectively crippled, with no way of knowing how bad the damage was – and that didn’t bode well for their future escape. If someone could handle Extremis, a few trackers would be easy as pie.

“That’ll happen again if you try and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, Stark,” someone said with a dark chuckle.

Tony turned his head so he could see who was talking. There was a man sitting casually on a grey metal fold-up chair a few feet away from Tony’s mattress. It was the same man who had attacked them in the exam room at the Playful Pet Vet Office. The bastard was _smiling_ at Tony, as though pleased to see him. The man was dressed in black body armor, and Tony could make out a skull and crossbones drawn in white paint in the centre of the man’s broad chest.

“Who the fuck are you?” Tony said, his voice slurred.

The man laughed. “You don’t know who I am?”

“If I did, do you think I’d ask who the fuck you were?” Tony said with a grunt.

The man snorted. His muscles bulged as he leaned forwards so he could stare at Tony, making his neck look like a tree-trunk that had somehow grown human flesh. He had a pleasant enough looking face – if you ignored the scars and the dead look in his eyes – and Tony could see how it would be easy to mistake the man for someone who could be kind judging by the gleeful smile. But this guy wasn’t soft and gentle – oh no, Tony had seen men like this before and he wasn’t fooled. This guy wasn’t around to _dust_ the place and bake cookies. This man was a _grunt_ , an enforcer, kept around for only two things – beating people to death and taking orders. The only thing Tony couldn’t tell by looking at the bastard, was who the man worked for.

“I’m kind of surprised Rogers didn’t tell you about little old _me_ ,” the man drawled. “We were _friends_. We were _good_ friends. You’d think that would have counted for more with Cap, but apparently _some_ people are more important than others.”

Tony floundered. Steve Rogers and this guy had been _friends_? That seemed highly unlikely. He could see Steve punching this guy in the face – but Steve being friends with him? Impossible.

“You know, we should be thanking you, Stark. We’ve been waiting a long time to get our hands on that cat again,” the man said. “Pierce wasn’t happy about losing him.”

Tony let out a huffed laugh. He had been captured by Hydra. He had been worried there for a minute that there was a new group of assholes out for his blood.

“Barnes is tough to track down,” the man said. He chuckled. “And to think – you had our furry little friend the whole time.”

Tony tried not to give in to panic at the mention of Bucky – poor, _defenceless_ , Bucky. The thought of _any_ cat being in a regular old grunt’s hands made him want to scream in rage; the thought of _Bucky_ being in some _dirtbag_ Hydra grunt’s grasp made him want to take a run at the goon even though he knew he would likely end up dead if he made one wrong move. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Tony said, his voice cracking despite his best intentions. The room felt like it was spinning and he wanted off the ride - _now_.

How long had Hydra been watching them?

Had it been that bastard at the restaurant who had called Hydra in?

Had it been someone at the Vet Office?

Had it been someone on the street?

Had there been some jackass standing outside on the street with a pair of binoculars watching their every move? Sweet Mother of _fuck_ – had there _really_ been someone keeping tabs on Steve Roger’s _cat_? He had joked about it, but he hadn’t thought it could be true. Oh god. No wonder Steve had left Bucky with him at the Tower – the Tower was secure, _impregnable_ , a place safe from any enemy. _Shit, shit, shit_ – he had walked Bucky in and out of the Tower again and again and again like a moron. They were lucky they hadn’t been caught before! How could he have been so stupid?

“I think he’s cluing in,” the man said with a laugh. He slapped his knees. “You get it now, huh? Tony Stark walked Steve Roger’s best friend right to us – grinning the whole way. That’s got to sting. Rogers is going to hate your guts for this. I wonder if he’s going to pretend to look for you – do you think he’ll want to help you now?”

“ _Rumlow_ ,” the Vet Tech’s voice thundered through the speakers. “That’s enough.”

Rumlow? Tony gnashed his teeth. _That_ was a name he recognized. Rumlow – _Brock Rumlow_ – had been working as an agent of SHIELD on Hydra’s behalf; he had worked with Steve for a good two years, and SHIELD for a good _fifteen_ years, before Hydra had reared up and started breathing fire. Rumlow was one of Alexander Pierce’s personal favourites; he followed orders and liked being called in when his superiors needed someone to beat the shit out of someone they didn’t like.

Shit! Why did things have to keep getting _worse_? Against a regular thug Tony might have stood a chance, but against someone from SHIELD special ops? He wouldn’t make it two steps towards Rumlow – not without the suit – before getting his ass handed to him.

“Rumlow!” the woman said through the speakers.

Rumlow stood up with a weary sigh and brushed off his knees, as though he had been sitting around collecting dust instead of guarding Tony. “Fine. Have it your way, Madame,” he said. He picked up his folding chair and flipped it over so it was flat, tucking it under his arm. He leered at Tony. “We’re going to have so much fun, Stark. So much fun. I’m going to enjoy destroying your ass.” He licked his lips and blew Tony a kiss, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Tony remained frozen in place as Rumlow left the room; he barely heard the door slam shut.

“When you’re feeling better, Mr. Stark,” the woman’s voice called out from the speakers. “We’ll have a nice little talk and straighten everything out. I’m sure we’ll have lots to talk about.”

“I’m sure we will,” Tony mumbled into the mattress.

 

 

It took a lot longer than Tony expected for the drugs and pain to work their way out of his system. When he was certain his body wasn’t going to drag him back down to the floor, Tony sat up and leaned against the wall behind him, keeping his shoulders hunched. He didn’t know how long it had been since Rumlow’s abrupt departure; all he knew was that he needed to know what was going on. He knew what Hydra was capable of and he didn’t like imagining what might be waiting for him – he’d rather know outright. Hydra didn’t care what they did, so long as they got results; they didn’t just torture their captives – they stripped them of dignity and then destroyed them. Rumlow’s threat hadn’t been idle, or a joke. He could only hope that the Vet Tech – the woman Rumlow had called Madame – would keep the bastard on a leash.

As expected, the door across the room opened and the fake Vet Tech came in. She looked far less _cuddly_ than she had when he had seen her last in the Playful Pet Vet office; she wasn’t smiling this time and there was no trace of friendliness in her. She was wearing a green cloak and a tight green leather bodysuit. Her gloves and boots were the same shade of vile green as the bodysuit and made of the same leather. She had a gun with her, tucked neatly into the holster hanging from the brown belt slung low around her hips. She frowned at Tony and snapped her fingers. Rumlow stepped into the room behind her, carrying a fold-up chair, and closed the door. He flipped the chair open and set it down, hovering behind the woman as she made herself comfortable. She crossed her lovely legs and looked down at Tony, drumming her fingers on her knee.

“Who are you?” Tony asked.

“I am Madame Hydra,” the woman said. Her green hair seemed to glow for a moment as the light hit it; she brushed it behind her shoulder. “You will call me Madame,” she said. “If you don’t, I’ll have Rumlow beat you until you do.”

Tony swallowed hard and hid his fear behind a cocky smile. “Sure, honey. Anything you want.”

Madame Hydra narrowed her eyes. “Do you _enjoy_ pain, Mr. Stark?”

“Not particularly,” Tony said.

“Then pay attention to what comes out of that pretty mouth of yours,” she said. “You’ve just used up the last of my mercy. If you don’t follow the rules again, you will find your body bruised and your nose bloody.”

Tony smiled brightly and let out a slow breath. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to keep his body heat from escaping. The room was cold – not icy, just a shade away from being uncomfortable. He didn’t like being in the cold like this, with no blanket and no hope of having the heat turned on. The cold made him clumsy, and he had a feeling he didn’t want to make a mistake here.

“Let’s get some things settled. Right now, Mr. Stark, you’re alive only because we can use you,” Madame Hydra said. “I need some equipment fixed, and you’re an excellent engineer.”

“So I’m here for a repair job?”

“Yes,” Madame Hydra said. “And you’ll do your best work for us.”

“Are you the one running the show?” Tony asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Or is Alexander Pierce behind the curtain?”

Madame Hydra smiled, the look so sharp it could have cut through glass. “Pierce is _unavailable_ ,” she said. “It would be wise to remember that.”

“Right – got it,” Tony said. He cleared his throat and glanced over at Rumlow, not liking that the man was standing so _still_. It felt like the guy was waiting to spring forward and strike. “So what did you do with my friends – and my cat?” Tony asked.

“They are safe,” Madame Hydra said. “For the time being.”

“Even Bucky?”

“Even Bucky,” Madame Hydra said. She cocked her head to the side in amusement. “He belongs to Rogers, and yet you’re worried about him. That’s strangely sweet coming from the Merchant of Death.”

“He’s a _cat_ ,” Tony said, dryly. “It’s not like he can defend himself.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Madame Hydra said with a hum. “It is hard to defend yourself if you’ve got paws instead of hands.”

“So what do you want me to fix?” Tony said.

“We’ll get to that later,” Madame Hydra said.

“Ok,” Tony said. “What do you want to talk about then?”

“I have some rules for you, Mr. Stark,” Madame Hydra said. “If you don’t follow them, I’m going to let Rumlow have his way with you. Do you understand what I mean?”

“You’re going to have your thug beat me,” Tony said with a snort. “You’ve said that before. I get it.”

“Oh, Mr. Stark,” Madame Hydra said with a soft laugh. “It won’t just be a _beating_. I wouldn’t do something so pedestrian – not to a man like you. Beatings break people too _slowly_.”

Tony shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. “I don’t care what you threaten me with. I won’t build you bombs,” he said. “I don’t build weapons anymore.”

“I don’t need bombs,” Madame Hydra said, calmly.

“Good – because I’m not building you any,” Tony said.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Stark,” Madame Hydra said, standing up. “I won’t be giving you the chance to build something you can use against me. I’m not naive, like those fools from the Ten Rings – there will be no building yourself a suit of armor. This time,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Here, you will be _obedient_ , or you will suffer the consequences.”

Rumlow picked up the chair and folded it up. He stared at Tony over Madame Hydra’s shoulder, his eyes dead. “I’ll keep him in line – don’t worry, Madame.”

“Good,” Madame Hydra said. “I have high hopes for you, Mr. Stark. You might just make it out of here alive.”

“Great,” Tony muttered.

“If the tech you repair for us doesn’t work, Mr. Stark, you will suffer greatly.” She turned her back on Tony. “Our Asset will need to be controlled, and if that doesn’t happen, you’re going to find yourself in deep trouble.”

Tony took in a sharp breathe. The last thing he wanted to do was give Hydra control over The Winter Soldier again, but he needed to make sure he played along – for now. “I’ll do what you want, but I want something in exchange,” he said. He knew it was a risk to ask for something so quickly, but he needed to know if he _could_ ask.

“Oh?” Madame Hydra said, her back still to Tony.

“I want Bucky – I’ll do what you want, but I want my cat here with me,” Tony said.

“Really?” Madame Hydra drawled. “You’d prefer a cat to one of your friends?”

“You’re not going to give me my friends,” Tony said. “We both know that.”

“Of course not,” Madame Hydra said. “I’m not going to hand you an extra brain to work with. That would be foolish.”

“So?” Tony said, clearing his throat. He hadn’t seen Bucky since the cat had been taken away in the Playful Pet Vet Office. For all he knew, Madame Hydra had had the cat killed or maimed for shits and giggles. He needed to know Bucky was safe. He needed to know Rhodey and Pepper were alive too, but it was safer to ask about Bucky first. They wouldn’t think he was planning something with a cat, after all.

“I’ll think about it,” Madame Hydra said. She opened the door and stepped outside, her boots clicking against the cement.

Rumlow lingered, watching Tony with the chair tucked under his arm.

“Rumlow,” Madame Hydra said, her voice a growl. She snapped her fingers.

Rumlow stepped through the door and closed it behind him.

Tony slid down the wall and lay on his side on the mattress. He wrinkled his nose at the smell, and tried to ignore the way his stomach was starting to feel like it wanted to heave itself out of his body through his throat. Rhodey and Pepper would be fine – they could take care of themselves. Bucky, on the other hand, didn’t have any thumbs – well, he didn’t have _human_ ones anyway – and no matter how ferocious the attack, the cat wouldn’t be able to take down someone like Rumlow, not unless the guy knocked himself out by accident. Tony clenched his fists. He couldn’t let them hurt Bucky – he hoped Madame Hydra was the kind of person who listened, because if she wasn’t, he didn’t know what he was going to do.

 

The door opened again.

Rumlow sauntered in carrying a yellow plastic cafeteria tray covered by a white plastic lid. His hips swung as he walked; he whistled as he approached, smiling at Tony the entire time, his eyes locked on Tony’s as though he was a waiter there to drop off a meal. There was a comm in his ear, some archaic-looking thing with a clear-plastic cord attached to it. No wonder Hydra needed him around, Tony thought wearily. Their tech needed serious updating if they were working with that kind of crap.

Tony watched Rumlow feigning disinterest. He looked over Rumlow’s body armor, locating every weapon visible, every point of defense, looking for anything that could potentially become a tool for his escape. He knew he wasn’t likely to get close to Rumlow – not _willingly_ – but it was better to think about what was he could do than to sit around and wait without doing anything.

Rumlow came to a stop at the end of Tony’s mattress. He held the tray up above Tony’s head and smirked, looking down at him. “I can see why Rogers kept you around,” he said. “He always did like _pretty brunettes_.”

Tony shrugged. “The man has good taste.”

Rumlow let the tray drop. It hit Tony’s lap and nearly overturned.

Tony scrambled to keep the tray from ending up on the cement, fingers curling painfully around the edge of the plastic. He wasn’t desperate for food yet, but he didn’t want to risk losing his one advantage in this hellhole – his health. He righted the tray and scooted backwards across the mattress until he was up against the wall, out of Rumlow’s immediate reach.

Rumlow let out a low, barked laugh. “You’re _pathetic_ , Stark. Look at you, scrambling around like an animal. You’ve barely been here ten hours.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’d think we’d already started starving you.”

Tony didn’t respond. He kept his eyes on Rumlow but didn’t touch the food.

Rumlow smirked. “You’re not going to eat?”

“I’ll eat when you’re gone,” Tony said.

“That tray leaves when I do,” Rumlow said, sweetly.

There was no putting it off. He would have to eat with Rumlow watching him after all. Tony sighed and pulled the cover from the tray. He expected to see something horrible inside – maybe some mouldy bread or something else that was close to rotting; he was surprised to see that his meal was a plain peanut butter and jam sandwich on white bread with a scoopful of canned fruit salad. The sandwich was soggy seeing as how the fruit salad had spilled over onto it when the tray had tipped, but it was edible. Tony bit into the sandwich. The juice from the fruit salad hadn’t ruined anything; it hadn’t improve anything either. The sandwich tasted like cardboard, with a hint of strawberries and peanut butter. He hoped they weren’t feeding Pepper the same thing – not with her allergies.

Rumlow leaned over Tony, watching him while he ate, a predatory smile on his face; his meaty fists clenched and unclenched as though he longed to wrap his fingers around Tony’s throat.

“Is there something you’re expecting me to do?” Tony said through a mouthful of fruit salad. The fruit salad tasted like crap too, but at least it wasn’t old. He wondered idly if the quality of the food meant anything. Was Hydra low on cash or did they simply hate him?

“Oh, I’m just waiting,” Rumlow said, his voice deadly-soft. He stepped onto the mattress, so his body was blocking the light, trapping Tony between him and the wall. “When you fuck up, darling, you’re _mine_.”

“Right,” Tony said, finishing his food. He put the lid back on the tray and pushed it into Rumlow’s hip to force him to back up. “I’m done – you can leave now.”

Rumlow chuckled and took the tray. He continued to stand over Tony, watching him.

Tony tried to ignore the uneasy twist in his gut. He didn’t like the way Rumlow was looking at him; he’d had stalkers who had looked at him like that before, and the last one had stuck a knife in his side.

After a few seconds of staring Rumlow down, the man backed up, attention drawn to whatever had been said through the comm in his ear. Rumlow grimaced, shifting the tray to his left hand and eyed Tony with amusement. “You’re in luck,” he said, after a minute. “Madame Hydra seems to think you’re going to behave yourself with that animal.”

Tony frowned. “What?”

“Madame says you can babysit the cat while you work – provided you work and don’t piss around,” Rumlow said. “She’d tell you herself, but she’s busy dealing with that bitch friend of yours.” He stalked away, heading to the door.

“My _bitch_ friend?” Tony called out. “And which _one_ would that be?” Was it Rhodey? Pepper? Was it Natasha? Steve? Was that why the two had been so hard to get a hold of? Were Natasha and Steve looking for Madame Hydra and her hidden base?

Rumlow opened the door. “I’ll be back to get you in three hours, Stark. Get sing for your supper.” He slammed the door.

Cursing, Tony lay down on the mattress again and closed his eyes. Maybe with his stomach no longer rumbling, he’d be able to get some sleep. He had three hours to kill, and he could tell by just looking around his cell that there was no point in getting up. There would be nothing here to use to break out; he wasn’t going anywhere unless Madame Hydra wanted him to have it.

 

 

Tony woke with a grunt. He was surprised he had fallen asleep so easily with no blanket. Normally he couldn’t drop off unless he was comfortable, and the mattress underneath him was the furthest thing from comfortable. He moved unhurriedly. His arms and legs felt like they had been encased in ice, and now that he was moving again he was startled by just how cold he had gotten while asleep.

Rumlow stood beside the mattress, towering over Tony once more. He kicked at the mattress again. “Get your ass _up_ , Stark. If you don’t move now, I’m going to drag you behind me by your hair and believe me, I’ll enjoy that way more than you will.”

Tony struggled upright, massaging his cold arms. “I’m up, I’m up,” he said. He shuffled across the floor in his socks, and followed Rumlow to the door.

There was no one guarding the hallway. Hell – there was no one _in_ the hallway. Tony had expected to see the place swarming with Hydra soldiers, but there was nary a soul in sight. Maybe Hydra _was_ low on cash after all. Tony hurried to keep up with Rumlow. Every wall he passed was made of cement, most of it painted beige; the floor beneath his socked feet was scuffed with age and had been painted over to keep the concrete from crumbling. There was no point in trying to make a run for it – there was nowhere to go, no windows to leap through, no doors to open. He couldn’t tell if they were above ground or below it; all he knew was that wherever he was, it wasn’t going to be easy to leave.

They kept walking.

They passed through a large room with boxes stacked ceiling-high against the walls and kept moving, passing a very _familiar_ looking padded chair. They made their way to a large, painted-red metal door. Rumlow waited for Tony to catch up to him before he opened the door; he smiled thinly at Tony and shoved him through the doorway, into the room beyond. He didn’t follow Tony inside.

Tony looked around the new room, shivering away as the door slammed shut behind him. This was some kind of work room – an abandoned one – filled with metal tables, chairs and boxes of spare parts. Some of it was functional; some of it was garbage that should have been hauled out to a landfill. Everything that used electricity was old, nearly useless, and there wasn’t much around that could be salvaged without an extreme amount of elbow grease. There were chunks of unidentifiable rusty metal sitting out on a table to his left and yellowing pipes on the table to his right. Everything was covered in a good two inches of dust. This room, like the others, had no windows, and while there was venting up on the ceiling, the fans weren’t doing that great of job of pulling the dust from the room.

Someone had been here recently.

They had disturbed the dust.

There were boot prints in the dust on the floor and on one of the tables, and some of the cardboard boxes had been shifted, leaving dust-free rectangles on the floor. Tony sneezed and rubbed at his nose as he explored the room, looking for both what he was expected to fix and useable tools to complete the task. He was glad to be free of Rumlow, but it felt strange to be left alone in a place filled with sharp metal objects. Either Madame Hydra didn’t think much of him, or she knew he wasn’t going to try anything stupid with Bucky, Rhodey and Pepper in her grasp.

Something crackled from Tony’s left. He turned and saw that this time, there was a visible speaker-box mounted to the wall.

“There is a box on the floor beside the green metal table,” Madame Hydra’s voice boomed through the speaker. “Fix the device inside.” The speaker fell silent.

Tony scowled and rubbed life into his hands. “You said I could have Bucky with me while I worked,” he called out.

The speaker cracked again. “Barnes will be brought in to you momentarily. Get to work, or I’ll change my mind, Mr. Stark,” Madame Hydra said.

Tony walked over to the green metal table. He pulled an uncomfortable metal chair over and sat down. The cardboard box sitting on the table was half disintegrated from being left out in water; it was barely holding together, and he was lucky that it had because inside the box were a good twenty parts that would be hard to collect if they ended up on the floor. Sighing wearily, he tested the table to make sure it wasn’t going to wobble and send everything crashing to the ground, and got to work, taking the pieces out one by one, placing them in a neat line. What he had when he was done was the beginning of a remote control – a very _titchy_ , old, remote control. There would be no intercepting the signal from this bad-boy. It wasn’t digital, and with no way to know what it was meant to control, the mere sight of its disassembled parts made Tony nervous. He got to work, arranging everything the way it needed to go, and committed the design to memory in case he needed to rip it apart in a hurry.

The red door opened.

Rumlow stalked in with Bucky’s cat carrier held delicately in hand. He sneered at Tony as he approached and gave the cat carrier a jiggle. “Here, Stark. I brought your friend in for a visit.”

Tony paused in his work and looked over at Rumlow. He had a feeling that Rumlow was going to put the cat carrier down on the table – directly on top of his work – if he didn’t move to meet him, so he stood up and approached, keeping distance between himself and Rumlow.

“What’s wrong, _sweetheart_?” Rumlow jeered. “Scared I’m going to mess up your work?”

“Cats knock things over,” Tony said with a shrug, his eyes locked on the cat carrier. He hoped that it was Bucky in there, and not some stray they had picked up off the street. Please let Bucky be safe – please. “You know how it is. I’d rather not have him crawling around in my work,” he said. “Madame Hydra won’t appreciate me having to stop work in order to fix things.”

“You’re worried about the _cat_ and not me? That’s interesting,” Rumlow said with a dark chuckle. He dropped the cat carrier unceremoniously on the floor from a good foot above the ground, smiling while he did it, his eyes locked on Tony’s. A cat yowled from inside the carrier, clearly not happy about the drop. “That’s funny, Stark. Really funny.”

Tony chewed on the inside of his cheek to keep from reacting. If he ever got out of here, he was going to shoot Rumlow in the balls with his repulsors for dropping Bucky like that. He approached the carrier when Rumlow had moved away towards the door again and dropped down to his knees beside it. Peering inside, he met Bucky’s gaze and relaxed. The cat looked like he had gone through a wind storm, and there was dust in his fur, but he looked alright. “Hey honeybuns,” Tony said, moving his hand to the carrier’s door latch.

“Stark?” Rumlow growled.

Tony sighed and stilled. “Yes?”

“If you can’t get that cat back in the carrier when you’re done repairing Madame’s device, I’m going to hurt him until he goes back in the box – willingly or not. Understand?” Rumlow said.

Tony swallowed hard. “Understood.” He opened the cat carrier door and found himself with an armful of cat. He felt the tension bleed out of his body as Bucky sniffed him all over. It was fine – Bucky was fine. Someone had pulled the t-shirt off of the cat, but other than that Bucky seemed the same as usual.

Bucky rubbed against Tony, seemingly oblivious to Rumlow’s presence now that he was free from the cat carrier. He cleaned his teeth on Tony’s knuckles.

Tony tangled his fingers in Bucky’s fur, trying not to pull at the knots; he looked Bucky over as best he could, knowing that Rumlow was watching him. Bucky had been in the back with the Vet Techs when they had been captured – or at least, that’s what he assumed had happened. Were Bucky’s stitches still in? Had the cat been looked at? Or had he been whisked away before he had even gotten within a foot of the vet? It looked like the stitches had been taken out, but he couldn’t tell who had done the work.

Bucky let out a loud growl and stood up, his back paws pressed flat against Tony’s leg, his front leg wrapped around Tony’s neck. His leg still had the cast on it, and he seemed alright with balancing on it. Bucky hissed at Rumlow, fluffing up; he bared his teeth and growled, the sound low and dangerous, promising pain.

Tony stroked a line down Bucky’s back, grateful that the cat was alright. He wrapped an arm around Bucky, hugging the cat a little and found himself hugged in return as Bucky’s front leg tightened its grip around his neck. Bucky’s nose rubbed against the side of Tony’s neck; he started purring softly.

“Ok. We’re ok, buddy,” Tony said, stroking Bucky’s fur. “It’s ok.” He hoped he sounded soothing, because he did not want the cat any more worked up than he already was. He didn’t want to see Bucky suffer because he wouldn’t go back into that damned box when Madame Hydra decided it was time to take him away again – and he didn’t want to see Bucky launching himself at Rumlow like he had with Dummy – even if Rumlow deserved getting slashed in the face.

“You’re supposed to be _working_ , Stark, not playing house,” Rumlow said, his hands dropping his hips.

“I know,” Tony said, barely resisting the urge to tell Rumlow to fuck off. He adjusted Bucky’s bulk against his body, delicately balancing the cat’s cast and stood up. Bucky clung to him; Tony could feel the prickle of claws in his neck. He carried the cat over to the table and looked down at the work he still had to do, debating on what to do next. He could put Bucky down, but then he might risk having things knocked over if the cat decided to explore. Sitting down with Bucky in his lap seemed like the best option, but would Bucky actually stay where he was put?

Bucky nosed at Tony’s throat again. He rubbed his face against Tony’s beard and let out a long, tired, sigh.

Tony sat down and scooted his chair closer to the table. “Ok, sweetheart,” he said, hoping the cat could get the gist of what he was saying, “you’re going to need to stay very still and not knock anything over. I need to finish working on this, or they’re going to hurt you and me.”

Bucky stiffened. His ears pressed flat against his head. He hissed, the sound loud in Tony’s ear.

Rumlow chuckled. The sound was much closer than Tony expected; he jumped in his seat.

Rumlow’s hand dropped onto Tony’s shoulder. “What’s wrong Stark? Jumpy much?”

Bucky sank his teeth into Rumlow’s hand, striking like a viper.

Tony turned away as Rumlow yanked his hand back and turned, putting himself in between Rumlow’s wrath and the cat. “He’s just an animal – you spooked him,” Tony said, words tumbling out in a rush. “Don’t hurt him. He didn’t mean it.”

Rumlow glowered. “Madame Hydra said that you get one pass for the cat and that’s it. He does it again and I’ll break him in half.”

“Understood,” Tony said, quickly. He hugged Bucky closer. “No more biting, ok? He’ll hurt you if you do.” He smoothed down the fur on Bucky’s head where it had fluffed up and swallowed around the lump in his throat. He needed to get his work done fast, but at the same time he knew that the moment he was finished, they would take Bucky away again; he was torn between wanting to slow down and speed up. He hugged Bucky again, glad to feel the cat’s warm bulk resting against his chest, and loosed his grip so he could get back to work.

After a while, Bucky slid down Tony’s chest and curled up in a ball on his lap. He rested his head on Tony’s leg while Tony worked, eyes half-closed, ears twitching at every sound, asleep but not asleep.

Rumlow prowled in the background, watching Tony and Bucky with open interest. Tony had thought that he would leave after the cat had been delivered, but apparently Rumlow had decided to stick around. It wasn’t like having a cat would make it easier for Tony to escape – in truth, it made things harder – but still Rumlow couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of them.

Tony put the last of the pieces for the remote together, and picked up the screwdriver he had been using.

“You’re good with your hands, Stark,” Rumlow said, practically purring in Tony’s ear.

Tony tensed and tried to stay calm. He could feel Rumlow’s body heat and while the warmth made him want to lean closer, the fact that it was _Rumlow’s_ body heat made Tony want to run screaming for the hills. He moved mechanically, trying to get the remote put together without attracting further attention.

“You heard me, didn’t you, Stark?” Rumlow murmured in Tony’s ear, his breath hot on Tony’s neck.

Tony slid a hand down on top of Bucky to block a potential attack when Bucky lifted his head and hissed again. “I heard you,” he said. “I’m trying to work, that’s all.”

“You’re good with equipment,” Rumlow said.

“That’s what being a genius engineer means,” Tony said, absently. “They don’t just hand out PhD’s, you know.”

“I’ve got some equipment you could handle,” Rumlow said, his voice nearly a whisper in Tony’s ear.

Tony dropped his screwdriver. He was no stranger to being hit on, but this was different; this wasn’t _playful_ – it was some kind of sick promise. He picked the screwdriver up, pretending he had gotten a cramp and went back to work. He was glad his hands weren’t shaking. He focused on the screws and gears instead of on the way he could feel Rumlow’s breath on his cheek again.

“Think about it, Stark,” Rumlow said, stepping back. “You might need a favor one day.”

Tony snorted.

Rumlow’s hand dropped onto Tony’s shoulder again; he pinched Tony’s shoulder-fat. “Something wrong?”

Tony cleared his throat. “Nope. Just got some dust up my nose,” he said. He finished setting the last screw in place and set the remote down on the table along with the screwdriver. Part of him itched to try and steal something, but with Rumlow watching him so intently, he couldn’t risk it. He settled his hands back onto Bucky and stroked the cat, trying to keep his calm.

“He’s finished,” Madame Hydra’s voice said through the speaker.

Rumlow smiled. “Understood,” he said. He snatched the remote from the table and stalked over to the door. “Steal something,” he called over his shoulder, “and I’ll break your precious cat’s other leg.”

Tony didn’t even look at the tools on the table. He focused on Bucky’s furry face. “See? It’s ok. We’ll keep each other out of trouble, alright?” he said. He played with Bucky’s ears, loving the soft velvet beneath his fingers. “We’ll be ok.”

Bucky sighed again and bumped his head against Tony’s hand.

Tony curled forwards, hugging the cat against him. “Sorry. I should have been paying more attention – I should have seen this coming.”

Bucky meowed softly and pawed at Tony’s shirt.

“This is my fault – my fuck up,” Tony said with a tired smile. “I’ll fix things, ok? We’ll get out of here. All of us – we’ll all get out of here and go home and eat as many greasy burgers as we want.”

Bucky nuzzled Tony’s hand again.

The red door opened with a shriek of metal. Rumlow stomped over to Tony and grabbed him by the shoulder, yanking Tony from the chair; the chair fell over with a clatter. “Get the _fucking_ cat back in his crate,” he said.

“You’re sure I can’t keep him?” Tony asked.

Rumlow dug his fingers into Tony’s shoulder. “Put him in the _fucking_ crate!”

“Ok, ok.” Tony dropped to his knees in front of the crate and set Bucky down on the floor. He held the door open. “Ok, puddie-pie. You’ve got to go back in the box now,” he said. Please go in, he chanted in his head, please go in. He knew he would have to hit Rumlow if the bastard tried to go after Bucky – he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand by and watch Bucky get hurt. “Please go inside.”

Bucky lifted his head and licked Tony’s cheek, the move so quick, it was barely noticeable. He turned around, walked into the cat carrier and did a slow circle inside it before sitting down. Sighing in relief, Tony closed the carrier door, locking it in place. He put his fingers through the bars and stroked what little of Bucky he could reach. “Thanks, sweetie.”

Rumlow picked the cat carrier up, jerking it away from Tony. “Get up, Stark,” he said.

“We’re heading back to my cell?” Tony said, standing. He grimaced at the ache in his knees and pushed it from his mind. He would have plenty of time to fight with his sore muscles later when he was back on his pathetic excuse for a mattress.

Rumlow yanked open the red door. “Get moving.”

 

 

Tony sat on his mattress, arms wrapped around his knees. Rumlow had left with Bucky, and he was alone. He wasn’t sure what to expect. Surely, Madame Hydra had more trinkets for him to fix – a place like this must have had a lot of broken crap to repair. They were probably looking over his work and deciding what to give him next. He hoped they still had a use for him.

The door to Tony’s cell opened with a groan. Rumlow stepped inside and closed the door behind him; it locked with a click. “That cat of yours is _feisty_ ,” he said, smiling at Tony as though they were friends and not captor and prisoner. It was strange to see a smile on Rumlow’s face; it made Tony all the more sure that the bastard was a very good faker. No wonder Steve had been friends with the guy.

“What does Madame Hydra want me to do now?” Tony asked.

Rumlow stalked closer. “She doesn’t want you to do anything yet,” he said. “Stand up.”

Reluctant, Tony stood, keeping his feet in front of the mattress so he’d have traction if something happened. Socks weren’t the best things to fight in, but they would do. And at least he couldn’t bounce off of the floor like he could with the mattress. He tried to stay relaxed, feigning calm. He hadn’t done anything wrong but strictly speaking, that didn’t mean he _wasn’t_ about to get a beating. His captors from the Ten Rings had taught him that lesson.

Rumlow looked Tony over from feet to face. “Step forward,” he said.

Tony stepped forward, moving away from the mattress, not sure what to expect.

Rumlow circled Tony slowly, staring at him as though looking for flaws in a statue; he ran his hand over Tony’s shoulder and down Tony’s back as he moved.

Tony’s eyes narrowed. Did Rumlow think he had stolen something? Hidden it away? It wasn’t like they had given him anything with pockets, so where did they expect him to keep something? Up his ass? He wasn’t desperate enough to try that – not with a bunch of rusty tools, at any rate.

Rumlow smirked. He gave Tony a shove and sent him flying backwards. Tony’s head bounced a little when it connected with the springy mattress; he saw stars as he adjusted to his new position. There was nowhere to go – no time to move. Rumlow straddled Tony’s hips with his meaty thighs and put a hand on Tony’s throat, effectively pinning Tony to the mattress. Tony took a sharp breath in through his nose and tried to stay calm.

“What are you doing?” Tony gritted out.

“You look very _good_ , Stark,” Rumlow said, smirking down at Tony. “You’ll look even better naked.”

Tony struggled, trying to get out from under Rumlow. This was _not_ happening – this couldn’t be happening! But there was nowhere to move, no way to wiggle free with Rumlow’s weight pinning him down. He clawed at Rumlow, trying to get his fingers somewhere of use, but couldn’t do much more than paw at Rumlow’s shoulder. The bastard was too big – too strong – and there was no way, even with the training Natasha had given him, to get out from underneath a two hundred plus pound man with no access to his legs.

“Stop _struggling_ ,” Rumlow said with a grunt. He tightened his grip on Tony’s throat. “Stop moving or I’m going to choke you out.”

Tony struggled harder, clawing at Rumlow’s shoulder.

Rumlow’s grip tightened.

Tony saw stars; then his world went black.

 

 

Tony woke up naked and alone. He swallowed down a mouthful of bile and slowly lifted himself up from the mattress so he was propped up on his elbow. He didn’t feel any pain except for when he touched the skin around this throat where Rumlow had choked him, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there, waiting to be discovered. He looked himself over, shivering in the cold and held in a sob of relief when he couldn’t find anything wrong. He had thought torture was bad, but this was worse. He couldn’t tell whether something had happened or not. If he’d had anything in his stomach he was pretty sure he would have thrown up.

“You’re fine, Stark,” Madame Hydra said. Her voice was soft, as though she was speaking without meaning for him to hear it. “If Rumlow had intended to hurt you, he wouldn’t have knocked you out.”

Tony wrapped his arms around himself, curling his body so his groin was shielded from the cold and cameras. Madame Hydra’s words were reassuring, _horrifying_ but reassuring. At least now he knew what to expect from Rumlow. It didn’t make things easier, but he knew what to look out for.

“Rumlow will bring your breakfast in to you in a moment,” Madame Hydra said.

“How long was I out?” Tony rasped. He felt along the side of his throat again, knowing instinctively that it was likely covered in a hand-shaped bruise.

“Does it matter?” Madame Hydra said, sounding for the first time, bored, as though she had had this conversation before.

“I’m tired,” Tony blurted. He knew it wasn’t much of an excuse, but he could feel the energy draining from his body as he shivered away. Being unconscious wasn’t _refreshing_ ; it wasn’t sleep. He curled into a ball and closed his eyes wishing he was at home. He didn’t want to see Rumlow’s fucking face again, but he knew he couldn’t avoid it.

“I suppose I can let you rest for another three hours – after that, you will eat breakfast and get back to work,” Madame Hydra said. The speakers crackled and went silent.

Tony let out a long, slow breath and tried not to cry.

 

 

The door to Tony’s cell opened. Rumlow strutted in, the same yellow plastic tray and cover he had brought in the day before in his hands. He stopped at the mattress and dropped the tray onto it, not waiting for Tony to get up.

“You’d better eat,” Rumlow said.

Tony pulled the covered tray closer. He hoped the food inside hadn’t been spill-able. He watched Rumlow out of the corner of his eye as he pulled the tray cover off; he wondered idly if he could break the plastic and make himself something sharp enough to stab with. Sadly, he didn’t have the strength to split the plastic. He turned his attention to breakfast. There was a covered bowl of oatmeal inside the tray and a plate with two slices of plain brown bread. Two packets of raspberry jam were sitting beside a now half-full cup of coffee. The rest of the drink was puddled in the tray under the container of oatmeal. Grimacing, he picked up a plastic spoon and opened the oatmeal, giving it a stir.

“Did you have a nice night?” Rumlow asked.

“I don’t know,” Tony said, stabbing at his oatmeal. His skin felt hot all over; he could tell that Rumlow was looking at him – _peeping_ at him – and he didn’t like that the bastard was so focused all the damn time. He wished he wasn’t shivering; it would have been easier to pretend that nothing was wrong if he was warm and not buck naked on a scratchy mattress.

“I guess we’ll see how much better you sleep tonight,” Rumlow said with a chuckle.

“Are you going to be giving me back my clothes? Or does Madame Hydra expect me to do my work naked?” Tony snapped. He put his empty oatmeal container down and picked up the toast. He smeared every last bit of the raspberry jam on it and wolfed it down, knowing he would need the energy.

“You’ll get your clothing when you need them,” Rumlow said. He sounded cheerful again. Tony wondered if that was a good thing or not.

“Can I see Pepper or Rhodey today?” Tony asked. He sipped at the remainder of his coffee, wishing he had more and that it tasted better. The person who had made it had been stingy with the cream, sugar and instant coffee powder. It was more brown water than anything but at least it was warm.

“Are you planning to misbehave?” Rumlow asked.

“No,” Tony said.

“Then no,” Rumlow said. “You’re not going to get to see your friends today.”

Tony sipped at his not-coffee. “What about Bucky?”

“What about Bucky?” Rumlow growled. “You’re worried about your _boyfriend_?”

Tony kept his face blank and stayed quiet.

“You’re pretty fit for an old man,” Rumlow said after a minute of silent contemplation. “Maybe that’s what he sees in you.” He circled Tony’s mattress, looking down at Tony, his head cocked to the side. “You’ve got more scars on you than I’d expect to see on a billionaire – and a lot more muscle. I guess you use that body of yours a lot, huh?”

Tony watched Rumlow out of the corner of his eye. He sipped the last of his coffee-water and pretended that he didn’t care what Rumlow did – or where he went.

“I’m sure Barnes will enjoy bending you over something,” Rumlow said with a salacious wink. “A relic for a relic.”

Tony scowled. “Considering Bucky Barnes and I have never met, I highly doubt he’s going to give a shit about me,” he said.

Rumlow let out a laugh, grinning with bared teeth. “Whatever you say, Stark. Hurry up and finish your breakfast – or do you _like_ being naked around me?” he paused at Tony’s left-hand side and leaned over Tony’s head, looking down at Tony’s throat. “You bruise well. I like that.”

Tony flinched and drained the last of his coffee. He put the cup on the tray and locked everything together again before thrusting the tray at Rumlow’s hand, knocking Rumlow in the knuckles.

Rumlow took the tray with a scowl. “You’d better smarten up or you’re going to be getting yourself some new bruises.” He hit Tony in the side of the head so fast, Tony barely registered that the blow was coming. He stood, still leaning over Tony and tucked the tray under his arm. “That ass of yours looks good for smacking too. You’d better watch it.”

Tony swallowed down a mouthful of bile and looked away. He wanted to give Rumlow a piece of his mind – to tell the son of a bitch what he really thought – but with his throat aching, he knew better than to say something. He might be snarky, but he knew when it wasn’t useful – and it definitely wouldn’t be productive to piss Rumlow off – _yet_.

“Rumlow,” Madame Hydra’s voice growled through the speakers.

Rumlow saluted the ceiling. “I’m heading out now. We’ll be at the workshop in a few minutes, Madame.”

“Good,” Madame Hydra said. “Stark has work to do, and I’d prefer if he got on with it. You can torment him later.”

Rumlow grinned and headed for the door.

 

 

Dressed in the same clothing that he had been stripped out of the night before, Tony followed Rumlow back to the room with the red door. He looked around once inside, trying to see if anything had changed in his absence, and saw that while a new cardboard box had been place on the green table, nothing else had been touched or moved. Sighing wearily, he sat down at the table and got to work, focusing on the parts inside the box instead of on Rumlow and how the man was practically bungee-corded to his side. Rumlow had been close enough to touch the whole way to the work room, and while it was annoying at first, the annoyance had soon turned into terror. He did not want to give Rumlow any excuses to attack him – not that the fucker needed any – but if he worked well there was a possibility of Madame Hydra stepping in and helping him. It was a slim chance, but all he had to work with.

Rumlow vanished after a few minutes, leaving through the red door.

Tony looked up once he heard the door close. “Uh, hello? Anyone here?”

The room was silent for a few minutes and then Madame Hydra’s voice rumbled through the loud-speaker. “What is it, Stark?”

“Is there a specific time-frame for putting this one together?” Tony asked, lining parts up on the table in front of him.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because this one is going to take longer fix and I don’t want Rumlow choking me out again,” Tony said.

The speaker crackled.

Tony stared grimly down at the pile in parts in front of him. He knew what he was working on now that he could see everything in one place. It was a receiver – one that would work in tandem with the remote he had built the day before. Again, it was horribly outdated, unusable with most modern day tech but it was repairable and that was likely all Madame Hydra cared about. He gnawed on his lower lip. Was he helping her build a bomb – a weapon – after all? It didn’t seem like it, but who knew what lurked in the hidden Hydra bases around the world.

The red door opened with a creak. Rumlow stalked in with Bucky’s cat carrier in hand, humming to himself as he walked. He approached Tony at a leisurely pace, giving the cat carrier a vicious shake every few steps. “Oh look – Your _boyfriend’s_ here.”

Tony could feel a vein pulsing in his forehead every time Rumlow gave the carrier a shake. He had to bite his lip to keep from jumping up and taking a run at Rumlow. He wondered if that was what Rumlow wanted – if Rumlow was waiting for him to try and hit back.

Rumlow dropped Bucky’s cat carrier onto the floor and stalked over to a pile of dusty chairs. He picked one up and dragged it closer to the green table; he sat leaning forwards against the back of the chair, his legs bracketing the chair legs. “You going to get that or should I?” he said, nodding to the cat carrier.

Tony didn’t bother responding to the taunt. He double checked that the parts on the table weren’t going to go tumbling to the ground and got up. He knelt beside the cat carrier with a muffled groan and opened it up, glad to see that Bucky had survived the night.

Bucky butted his head against Tony’s hand and then darted away into the room, disappearing behind a pile of tables.

Tony stared blankly after the cat.

Well _that_ wasn’t a good way to start the day.

Tony heaved a sigh and ran his fingers through his greasy hair. Great. Now he was going to get smacked around regardless of what he did. He didn’t blame the cat for running – he just hoped Bucky would calm down by the time his work was done. Tony stood up sluggishly, wishing he had at least been able to touch the cat’s fur once before he had disappeared, and returned to his chair.

“Man, you’re one _unlucky_ fuck,” Rumlow said, leaning back in his chair. “You spend all of your time trying to protect that ungrateful piece of shit and off he goes.”

Tony kept his expression blank. He worked as slowly as he dared, looking over every part he touched with a critical eye. None of the parts were cracked or bent. Everything was custom made. Someone had created everything and then simply never touched it again after. This was old work – forgotten work – something rediscovered. Maybe it was Zola’s work. It wouldn’t have surprised Tony if it was; there were a lot of things no one knew about what Zola had done for the Red Skull, and he had had lots of alone time with Hydra’s scientists over the years – especially after they had infiltrated SHIELD.

Rumlow cleared his throat.

Tony looked up, startled. He hadn’t realized he had been so engrossed in his work. His hand ached, and his fingers were stained with reddish grease. He cleared his throat. “What?”

Rumlow had a covered tray balanced in one hand. He looked like he was planning on dropping it on Tony’s head. “You’ve been at it for hours. Madame Hydra felt you needed food.”

“Oh,” Tony said. He looked between the covered tray and the green table and wondered if he was going to have to suffer for his food. His stomach rumbled in irritation, not pleased at having been ignored for so long.

Rumlow snorted. “You _geniuses_ are all the same,” he said. He found a space on the green table, to Tony’s surprise, and put the tray down without dropping it or making a mess and then backed off to go sit in his abandoned chair.

Tony pulled the tray cover off and set it aside. His stomach rumbled loudly; his mouth watered. Today, the food was like a king’s banquet. There were three chunks of breaded pork schnitzel on a plate in the middle of the tray and everything was smothered in mushroom gravy. There was even two ice-cream scoop sized blobs of mashed potatoes sitting beside the schnitzel, a bowl of what looked like creamed spinach and a cup of what might-actually-be _coffee_. Tony tried not to laugh at the irony of German food being served by Hydra – and dug into his meal. He held in a lurid moan as the schnitzel melted in his mouth. It wasn’t the best he had ever had, but it was far, far better than the crap he had eaten for his past two meals and he sure as hell wasn’t going to complain. Maybe behaving himself _did_ have its benefits.

Rumlow scowled at Tony. “Enjoying yourself?”

Tony wiped his mouth on the side of his arm that had the least amount of grease and shrugged. He looked around the room for Bucky, a forkful of schnitzel held in front of him, and saw that the cat had taken up refuge on the tallest pile of boxes in the room. He blew on the food, trying to tempt Bucky back down, but the cat was uninterested in food. Tony’s blood ran cold. Bucky _uninterested_ in food? That wasn’t right.

“Hurry up and finish eating or I’m going to take that tray away,” Rumlow growled, drumming his fingers impatiently on his arm.

Tony went back to eating. He ploughed his way through the rest of the schnitzel and moved on to the potatoes; they turned out to be not as good as the rest of them meal – they were instant mashed potatoes, the kind that was mostly mush and salt – but it was food so he ate every last bite. He finished the bowl of creamed spinach only because he knew he might need the energy and then eyed the coffee warily. He eventually caved in and sipped at it. It wasn’t bad – it wasn’t _good_ – but it wasn’t as bad as it had been before. Clearly there was a different Hydra goon working in the kitchen today.

Rumlow stood up with a grunt.

Tony drained the last of the coffee in a single gulp and put the cup back in its place. He flipped the cover back onto the tray and held it up, hoping that the act might appease Rumlow’s vicious inner child.

Rumlow took the tray, ‘accidentally’ smacking Tony in the back of the head as he did so and wandered off, whistling, to the door.

Tony sighed and scrubbed a hand over the back of his head, glad that Rumlow was gone and weary that there was still work to do. He cast a baleful look up at Bucky, willing the cat to come down from his perch so his lap could be warm again, but had no luck in attracting Bucky’s attention.

Hours later, fingers sore and skin pinched, Tony yawned into his arm and looked up at Bucky; the cat was still on his box-tower, and while normally Tony wouldn’t mind the cat being a cat, today he needed Bucky to come down and get back into that goddamned cat carrier – it was cruel, perhaps the cruelest thing he could ever do to Bucky, but unless they both wanted to end up in agony, it needed to happen. He cleared his throat. “Bucky? Honey? Sweetie-plum? You need to come down now,” he called out.

Rumlow snickered from behind Tony. He lurked, a few inches away, his broad chest nearly touching Tony’s back. “Better get a move on, Stark,” he taunted, fingers curling around the back of Tony’s chair.

Tony cleared his throat. “Come on, Bucky. Time to come down.”

Bucky turned and glared down at Tony.

Tony winced and prepared to be beaten.

Bucky turned around and descended from his tower one box at a time, his tail swishing behind him. He scurried across the cement, leaving footprints in the dust and walked into the cat carrier without prompting or pushing.

Tony closed the cat carrier door, feeling awful. “I’m sorry,” he said, hoping the cat understood just how badly he felt.

Bucky closed his eyes and curled his tail around his body. He reached out with his front paw and touched Tony’s hand once before pulling his foot back in and curling it under him.

Tony backed away from the carrier. He had lucked out. Apparently the cat listened better than most people did. Still, it niggled at the back of his mind that Bucky hadn’t come down for food. Being in a new place with strangers hadn’t seemed to bother the cat or ruin his appetite before, so what had changed? Maybe Bucky could sense pure evil. Maybe that was it.

Rumlow picked the cat carrier up and headed for the red door. “Stay,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Tony. He smiled darkly. “I’ll be back for _you_ in a minute.”

 

Tony managed to get a whole five minutes of alone time before Rumlow returned and stripped him; he was paraded naked through the hallways, his hands held in front of his crotch, and returned to his cell.

“Go on in, _sweetie-plum_ ,” Rumlow said, smirking at Tony. “I’ll be right back.” He gave Tony a slap across the ass that sent him tumbling into the room.

Tony hit the ground on his knees and held in a curse. He waited for the door slam shut before getting up and shuffling over to the mattress. He dropped down and lay flat on his belly trying not to shake with rage and humiliation. His knees and bare ass smarted every time he moved. He knew why he was being stripped down now; it was easy to figure out after that unprompted walk through the halls. Rumlow was trying to humiliate him – to intimidate him – to terrify him into behaving and it was working. Tony gritted his teeth. He was no stranger to intimidation or humiliation – or terror, for that matter; it was just that the bastards from the Ten Rings had preferred pain to humiliation – they hadn’t been interested in harassing him like this. The Ten Rings had been more interested in beating the shit out of him.

Tony let out a huffed breath. It was practically _glacial_ in his cell. He wondered if that was also part of Rumlow’s torture plans too. If he was lucky, the Avengers would be breaking in soon and he wouldn’t have to find out. If Pepper and Rhodey’s trackers still worked, they might just make it out of here without having to suffer through much more. He hoped that Hydra was focused on him – if they had been worried about taking out Extremis, maybe Pepper and Rhodey had escaped scrutiny.

The cell door opened with a creak.

Rumlow came in, humming to himself as he carried over a covered tray. He looked down at Tony a let out a low, lewd whistle. “Look at _you_! Very _nice_.”

Tony bit back a snarl and curled a little so Rumlow didn’t have such a good look at his ass. The last thing he wanted the bastard to think was that he had submitted – that he was giving up. He hoped to god Rumlow wasn’t doing this to Pepper and Rhodey. He was going to burn this place to the ground, he decided, when he got out of here.

Rumlow set the tray down beside Tony’s head and pushed hard on Tony’s hip, rolling him back over so he could continue to leer at Tony’s bare ass. He whistled again and reached out, running a finger over the mark he had left. His fingers burned like hot coals against Tony’s cold skin. “Look at that. I told you, you mark up nicely. I’ll have to smack you a little harder next time. I bet you’ll look really good in black-and-blue.”

Tony gritted his teeth.

“You’d better eat up,” Rumlow said, pulling away. He strode over to the door and pulled it open again, disappearing outside.

Tony rolled over and peered over at the door, hoping that would be the last he would see of Rumlow that night. He hid a scowl behind his arm when the door opened again and Rumlow returned with a folding chair.

“I said _eat up_ ,” Rumlow said with a growl, flipping open the chair. He sat down and crossed his legs and arms. “Or do you not _want_ to eat tonight?” He leaned forwards. “Was _lunch_ too heavy for your delicate stomach?”

Tony sat up, keeping an arm in front of his groin. He grabbed the tray and pulled it onto his lap before tugging the tray cover off and setting it aside. Dinner was a bowl of some kind of shredded canned pasta – the kind normally fed to small children who were picky – and a hunk of slightly-burnt garlic bread. There was a juice box sitting in the space where the faux-coffee normally sat. Someone had felt the need to include dessert too. On a small plate sat a sad looking piece of carrot cake.

Tony ate as quickly as he could, keeping an eye on Rumlow the entire time.

“Why the rush?” Rumlow said, cocking an eyebrow. “Trying to get rid of me?”

Tony faltered, fork half-way to his mouth.

“Oh, I see,” Rumlow said, looking hurt. “You don’t like it when we spend time together. That’s mean, Stark. Cruel, even.”

“I want to sleep,” Tony said, hoping to smooth things over with a good lie. “Madame Hydra wants me to work and I can’t work well if I don’t sleep.”

Rumlow snorted. “And you think I give a _shit_ about that?”

Tony went back to eating, trying to ignore the way Rumlow’s words made him like he had been dunked in a bucket-full of ice-water. If Rumlow didn’t care what Madame Hydra thought, then he was in more danger than he had realized.

“So do you always bend over and let people do what they want? Is that a Stark trait? Or did you learn that from Captain America?” Rumlow asked.

Tony bristled.

“Did _Stevie_ teach you? Is that how he got you to behave?” Rumlow asked. He smirked. “I’ve read your file, Stark. Romanoff was thorough – she seemed convinced that you didn’t work well with others.”

“I don’t,” Tony said, swallowing down his last bite of mushy pasta.

Rumlow let out a barked laugh. “You’re trainable – I see.”

“Steve didn’t do anything to me,” Tony snapped. His face flushed with anger.

“ _Sure_ ,” Rumlow said. “I bet you took one look at his pretty face and went belly-up. You probably spread your legs and everything.”

Tony tore his garlic bread in half and gave Rumlow his best fake smile, the one he used on the paparazzi and the SI’s Board of directors. “Sure. That’s _exactly_ what happened. If you want to know all the juicy details, you’ll have to ask Steve.”

Rumlow scowled.

Tony ate the last of his garlic bread, licking the butter off of his fingers when he was finished. He didn’t realize just how lewd the gesture was until he realized that Rumlow was watching him, his mouth slightly open.

Rumlow licked his lips, his eyes on Tony’s hands. “I’ve got something else you could _lick_ ,” he said.

Tony picked up his fork again and moved on to his carrot cake. It was overly sweet and tasted stale, but at least it was a distraction from Rumlow. And worse comes to worse, he could use it to stab the bastard.

Rumlow sighed and shook his head. “You shouldn’t do things like that,” he said.

Tony smiled sweetly at Rumlow and put his fork down on his tray. He put the tray cover back onto the tray and held it out. “All done.”

Rumlow glared at Tony, his lip curled in disgust. He stood up and kicked the chair away; it hit the wall with a clang, and flipped over onto the floor leaving a dent in the seat.

Tony stayed frozen in place, the tray held out with one hand and his groin shielded with the other.

Rumlow’s nostrils flared. He snatched the tray from Tony’s hand and leaned close. “If you don’t watch it, I’m going to find out what Rogers did and do it to you too.”

Tony kept his expression blank, trying not to laugh. It wasn’t every day he was threatened with the torture of someone doing absolutely _nothing_ to him.

Rumlow strode over to the chair and scooped it up by the leg. He dragged it over to the door and leaned it up against the wall. Yanking the door open, he grabbed the chair again and carried it out; he let the door slam behind him.

Tony grinned, unable to help himself.

The lights turned off, leaving Tony alone, naked and in the dark.

Tony stopped grinning and let out a sigh. It was going to be a long night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know if you spot anything strange and I'll fix it!  
> Let me know if I missed any tags and I'll put them up!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony didn't like the dark. He liked his new guest even less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for violence, humiliation, nudity and Rumlow being a massive asshole.

Tony woke with a gasp and clawed at the mattress beneath him blindly, trying to figure out where he was; his night vision came back slowly. He panted, desperate to catch his breath, and tried to focus on the ceiling above him and how it most definitely did not have any stars or solar systems on it. It was getting harder and harder to sleep; there were so many nightmares to contend with, and his least favourites were making their presence known again. He’d gotten some pretty damn exquisite sleep when Bucky was curled up in a ball on his pillow. Boy were those the days. He missed having a quiet room he could leave. He missed having a pillow. Hell, he missed his _sheets_ , more than anything. It would have been nice to have a layer in between his sweaty skin and the disgusting crusty mattress he was lying on.

“Stark?” Madame Hydra’s voice crackled through the speakers.

“Yes?” Tony croaked.

“What’s going on in there?” Madame Hydra asked. “What are you doing?”

“I had a nightmare,” Tony said, wiping sweat from his brow. What the hell had she thought he was doing? Jerking off? It felt ridiculous to have to explain what had happened, but if that was what she needed to hear in order for her to not send Rumlow in to torment him, he would explain every last goddamn part of his nightmare in excruciating detail.

“I see,” Madame Hydra said. She sighed. “I’m going to tell you this once and only once. If I catch you screaming in your sleep again, I’m going to have you beaten.”

Tony held in a hysterical laugh, glad to be out of sight and in the dark; at least this way, she couldn’t see his face – assuming, of course, Hydra wasn’t using night vision cameras. He wouldn’t have put it past them, now that he thought about it. Damn it! Why had he thought about it? It had been bad enough just being naked and in the dark in a cold cell and now he had to worry about everyone in Hydra seeing his junk in HD. He hadn’t expected Madame Hydra to check up on him – Rumlow, maybe, for nefarious purposes, but not Madame Hydra. That was interesting at least. Tony rolled over and closed his eyes, trying and failing to avoid the sweaty spot on the mattress where he had been lying. “Right,” he said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” Madame Hydra said. The speakers crackled. “Get your rest, Mr. Stark. You’re going to need it for your next task.”

Tony sighed and hugged his knees to his chest. “You know, if you want me to sleep better, you could give me – oh, I don’t know. My _clothes_ – or a blanket? Or both.”

The speaker remained silent.

Tony closed his eyes and gnawed on his lower lip. Sleep wasn’t going to come again– not after that last doozy of a nightmare – and he wasn’t looking forward to the monotonous wait ahead of him. He wondered what Pepper and Rhodey were up to. Were they receiving the same treatment? Or were they sleeping in soft beds? He hoped they were being treated nicely – or at least, nicer than he was. Pepper would be a good hostage to sell off – SI would pay to get her back, and they would pay well. He had personally made sure that decision had been slipped into the ransom clause in the SI legal playbook; SI wouldn’t pay to get Tony Stark back, but they’d damn well pay for Pepper Potts and James Rhodes – no one other than him and the lawyers knew about that addition. He let out a long, suffering sigh and drummed his fingers on his arm. God he hated waiting.

 

 

Tony blinked.

The lights turned on, blinding him. Tony blinked, and rubbed at his eyes as spots danced in his vision. His stomach rumbled, the sound shattering the silence that had clung to him. How long had he been staring into the dark for? It hadn’t seemed like hours but apparently he had managed to kill time after all. The door across from his crusty mattress opened with a shrill whine and Rumlow stomped in. The bastard was grinning, and he looked like he was planning on doing something awful. Fantastic. Tony huffed a sigh and sat up, already weary. He leaned forward, plastering his best fake smile on his face and hunched over so his groin was shielded from sight. “Good morning,” he said. He was glad the tremors in his hands had somehow disappearing while he was staring blankly up at the ceiling; this way, Rumlow couldn’t see how much being in the dark had very nearly broken him down into a sobbing mess. His goosebumps were acceptable to see – trembling in fear was not – not now that Rumlow was there in the room with him. He couldn’t afford to look weak now. He had to stay strong.

Suddenly, the grin on Rumlow’s lips was gone. Rumlow dropped the tray on the floor in the middle of the room and stood over it, his hands on his hips.

Tony didn’t let his smile falter. He stood slowly, the aches and pains in his body flaring up, and started towards the tray.

When Tony got close enough to get the tray, Rumlow shoved him, sending Tony crashing to the floor ass over teakettle; Rumlow’s hands were obscenely warm against Tony’s bare chest. “No,” Rumlow said, with a grunt. “ _Crawl_ for it.”

Tony gritted his teeth, but he didn’t let his smile falter. He rolled himself over, hoping that he hadn’t broken anything in the fall, and then began the long, arduous crawl towards the tray; his side smarted with each move he made. He knew Rumlow was watching him – eating the sight up – and while he didn’t want to draw it out, the cold made it hard to move quickly. He reached the tray and scooped it up before Rumlow could do something else sadistic like stomp on his fingers. He scooted his way across the floor on his knees back to the mattress, trying to keep out of range of Rumlow’s boot. He might be hungry, but that didn’t mean he was going to plant his bare ass on freezing cement. The scratchy mattress was _pleasant_ now that he had had contact with the floor; he vowed to take the world’s longest, hottest, shower when he got home and opened the tray, expecting to find a mess.

There wasn’t a mess. The kind soul who had been slaving away in the kitchen had thoughtfully sealed a stack of pancakes in a container, and although they had taken a tumble, they had survived the fall intact; the syrup, whipped cream and bananas that had been included were in containers too and had also remained free for crush damage. The cup that had contained coffee-water had been replaced with a canned cappuccino, the kind Tony had had on his trips to Japan. It looked oddly like the ones that came from the vending machines close to the rental SI buildings there in Osaka. Tony eyed everything suspiciously and then decided to dig in before he could convince himself something was wrong. He had to work, and his stomach was going to make that impossible unless he stuffed it with food.

Rumlow watched Tony eat, that predatory-grin back on his face.

Tony tried not to think about what was going on in Rumlow’s head, but it was hard not to guess at what was going on in that fucked up brain. Was Rumlow planning something? Something violent? Was he going to hurt Bucky today? Was he going to hurt Tony? Were they going to keep him? Or send him home in a box?

Rumlow crossed his arms over his chest. “Hurry up and finish,” he said. “We don’t want to keep your _guest_ waiting.”

Guest? Tony paused, fork halfway to his mouth. There was a guest waiting for him? His body felt like it had frozen over again. He had done something and he was going to be punished – Rumlow had been clear that he wouldn’t be seeing anyone unless he had done something wrong. And now he had guests. The pancakes tasted like cardboard in his mouth. He continued to shovel the food away; he hoped he was wrong.

 

 

Rumlow made Tony walk down the hallway to the room with the red door while naked. He kept Tony’s clothing bundled up under his arm as he walked behind Tony, watching him the entire time, and seemed pleased with what he saw.

Tony kept his fake smile on, and walked like he was in a parade. It made things a little less horrible in his head, and the almost-spring in his step seemed to make Rumlow confused. A part of him took glee in that – the other part of his mind, the part that knew when to stop, screamed for him to stop tempting fate.

The red door opened under Tony’s hand as easily as a mall door might. No one had bothered locking it. Rumlow shoved Tony inside and chucked the bundle of clothing into the middle of the room; it landed in the dust with a muffled thump.

Tony hurried over to his clothing and began pulling things on, barely registering that there was someone else in the room. When he looked up, shirt in hand, thankfully wearing his sweat pants, he made eye contact with his ‘guest’; he nearly screamed, filled with a mixture of rage and delight.

Justin Hammer was seated at the table Tony normally worked at; he was dressed in a plain white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweat pants. He scowled at Tony. “Great,” he said. “Stark. The last person I wanted to see.”

Tony nearly hurled his shirt at Hammer’s head. “ _You_ ,” he roared. “You rat _bastard_! You sold me to Hydra!”

Hammer looked horrified. “I did not!”

“Then how the hell did I end up here, _jackass_?” Tony said with a growl, stomping closer. He was about to let loose all of the rage he had been holding in check since he had first ended up in Rumlow and Madame Hydra’s grasp and then realized that it would be pointless in taking it out on Hammer. He could tell just by the way Hammer was _dressed_ that Hammer wasn’t here as an actual guest – the jackass was wearing the same clothing Tony was. Goddamn it! Hammer was Hydra’s prisoner. How Hammer could be in prison and then suddenly here? What the fuck had been going on? Had Hammer escaped somehow and ended up that webcam feed? Or had he been here the whole time? And if he had been here, did that mean SHIELD knew about the kidnapping and hadn’t said anything? Or had all of this happened under SHIELD’s very nose?

Hammer sneered at Tony. “You’re supposed to be a genius. Why don’t you use your brain and figure it out?”

Tony’s left eye twitched. He grabbed a chair and dragged it over to the table, ignoring Hammer in favor of looking around to see if he could find his next repair project. Sure enough, there was a tattered cardboard box sitting on the table, but it wasn’t sitting untouched. _Sweet mother of crap_! There were parts strewn about all over the place; some of the probably irreplaceable pieces were lying on the _floor_ , where someone could easily step on them. Tony groaned closed his eyes, drawing air in through his nose, trying to stay calm. It was fine. He could fix this – although he was pretty sure he had seen a few parts soldered together, which was quite the feat considering he couldn’t even see a soldering gun lying around – he just needed to keep calm and not wrap his hands around Hammer’s neck. He could do this. He could do this – as long as Hammer kept his fucking mouth shut, he could do this.

“Hey,” Hammer said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll have you know I’m just as important as you are. They give _me_ projects too, you know.”

“Sure, Justin. You’re _important_ ,” Tony said with a snort. He nodded to the cardboard box on the table, eager to get started and desperate to figure out whether any of the parts had gone missing. “Is that yours or mine?”

“Its mine,” Hammer said, possessively wrapping an arm around the cardboard box. He glared at Tony. “Madame Hydra told me to fix it and I’m going to fix it.”

Rumlow let out a low, booming, laugh.

Hammer flinched, and clung to the box, crushing it slightly.

Tony put his face in his hands. Fantastic. They were both going to die. This was just great. The last face on earth he was going to see was Justin Hammer’s. Why did the universe seem to hate him so much? He tried to be nice – he ran charities, he cleaned up after Howard and Obadiah’s messes – he’d even made sure his employees had the best benefits packages in the country but still, it seemed, fate loathed him.

“You really think Madame Hydra brought Stark in here because she wanted him to watch _you_ work?” Rumlow said. He put his hand on Tony’s shoulder, as though sharing a confidence and leaned closer. “You know how he got here?”

Tony let his expression become neutral. “Let me guess. Madame Hydra thought he could help her so she broke him of jail.”

“ _Bingo_ ,” Rumlow said. He squeezed Tony’s shoulder. “Hammer, here, has been helping us put together the Chair one part at a time.”

Tony bit his lip to keep from grinning like an idiot; he hadn’t been so happy to hear Justin Hammer was working on something in _years_. If Hammer was the one repairing the Chair, maybe things weren’t so bad after all.

“He’s nearly finished with it,” Rumlow said. He leaned closer to Tony’s ear again. “Soon, we’ll start using it.”

Hammer began to visibly sweat. He smiled nervously at Tony, still clutching his cardboard box as though it was a life preserver and he was trapped in the ocean surrounded by nothing but water. “Let’s get to work. I’d like to get back to my cell.”

“Oh sure,” Rumlow said, nodding along. “Sure. Why don’t you two get to work? I’ll just leave you two to it and go get Stark’s boyfriend.” He slapped Tony on the shoulder again and left the room, whistling.

Hammer eyed the red door cautiously and then turned to Tony once he was convinced that they were alone. “Your boyfriend? They’re going to get your _boyfriend_?”

“He’s not my boyfriend. Shut up,” Tony said. He stood up and pushed his chair away. “You heard Rumlow. We’d better get working.” He dropped down onto his hands and knees and began collecting parts, scouring every last inch of floor within reach.

Hammer remained seated, clutching at his bent cardboard box. He smirked. “Since when have you had a boyfriend?”

“He’s talking about my cat,” Tony snapped. He grabbed a screw that was trying to escape and clutched it tightly as he shuffled across the floor on his knees, leaving streaks of dust-free cement in his wake.

Hammer let out a high-pitched laugh and slapped the table. More parts from the box tumbled to the ground.

Tony cursed and scooped them up. “Watch it,” he said. “Are you trying to get us smacked around?”

“They’re not going to smack _me_ around,” Hammer said, sneering at Tony again. “I’m _useful_.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Tony muttered. He knew Hammer believed he was better than most people in their line of work, but he hadn’t thought the guy was _delusional_.

“You’re just a sore loser, Stark,” Hammer said.

“You’re absolutely right,” Tony said, scrambling to pick up a washer as it wobbled in place. “ _I’m_ the sore loser.” He groaned when he found another badly welded gear. “How the fuck did you managed to do this much damage so fast?”

Hammer let out a loud gasp and seemed to puff up; he glared at Tony as he detached from the cardboard box. He stood, nearly knocking his chair over and kicked Tony in the hand. The pieces Tony had been so diligently collecting flew away, scattering across the dust once more.

Tony bit down on his lip and tried not to scream. The pain wasn’t as bad as say, when he had had the arc reactor put in, but it was enough to make him want to howl in agony, and without Extremis there to smooth things out, it _hurt_. He opened his hand slowly. The metal gears and bits he had been trying to hold on to had cut into his flesh, making him bleed. Some of the wounds were small, mere pinpricks, while others were long and deep and stung like papercuts. What the fuck had Hammer been thinking?

Hammer shoved Tony in the shoulders, knocking him down. “This is all your fault!”

“My fault?” Tony growled, barely resisting the urge to suck at his injured fingers as he lay on his back. He hoped there weren’t any bits of rusty metal stuck in his hand; he wasn’t so sure Rumlow was going to help him if there was, even if that would mean Hydra lost one of their stolen repairmen. “How is any of this cluster-fuck of a week _my fault_?”

“If you’d just rescued me like you were _supposed_ to this wouldn’t be happening!” Hammer snapped.

Tony let out a laugh. “You’re kidding, right? You have to be kidding, because if those words seriously came out of your mouth I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to kill you.”

Hammer snorted. “You’re not that kind of guy, Stark.”

“You don’t know me, Hammer,” Tony said, his eyes narrowed. He gave his fingers an experimental squeeze and release and winced at the pain. He could work with them, for a while at least if he was lucky and they didn’t swell up like sausages. He sat up.

The red door opened with a squeal.

Tony didn’t turn to face the open door. He patted at the floor with his uninjured hand, looking for parts before Rumlow could crush them under his boots – intentionally or unintentionally. He recovered half of what he had lost before Bucky’s cat carrier was dropped in front of him. He flinched away, hugging his fist-full of parts to his chest, his heart hammering in his chest as he fought to keep from sneezing. Dust sparkled in the air, flying up his nose.

Rumlow put a hand on Tony’s head. “What the hell are you doing down there?” he said. He didn’t sound happy. In fact, he sounded extremely displeased.

“Stark dropped some parts,” Hammer said, shifting his out of Rumlow’s reach. He scooted around the table until he had it in between him and Rumlow before speaking again. “I don’t know why you brought Stark here. He’s pathetic. He can’t do this kind of work.”

Rumlow’s fingers carded through Tony’s hair, almost _affectionately_. Tony shuddered and tried not to throw up in his mouth.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Hammer,” Rumlow said. “You’re here to work. You’re not here to play games. What do you think Madame Hydra is going to say if she sees your work unfinished at the end of the day? Do you think she’s going to be lenient with you _again_? Do you think she’s going to let you leave this room in one piece?”

Hammer paled and gestured at Tony, his eyes wild. “It’s not my fault if it doesn’t get things done. Stark lost some of the pieces!”

“I don’t give a shit if Stark shoves some of those parts up his nose and starts smacking his ass like it’s a drum,” Rumlow said. He pulled his fingers free from Tony’s hair and stepped closer to the table. “You’ll get the job done, or you’ll _both_ suffer.”

Tony grimaced. He had hoped his fate wouldn’t be tied to Hammer’s. Damn it! Now he had to find all the parts again and make sure Hammer didn’t fuck anything else up before the end of the day.

Rumlow picked up the cardboard box.

Hammer’s eyes widened. “Please don’t.”

Tony hung his head.

Rumlow threw the box on the floor. Parts tumbled down into the dust, bouncing and rolling all over. “You should get started.” He looked down at Tony, lips pursed. “And you’d better hope you didn’t fuck up Stark’s hand when you kicked him.” He grinned at Hammer. “Madame Hydra is not happy about that.”

“I didn’t hurt Stark – he did that to himself,” Hammer insisted. He dropped down to his knees and started scrambling to collect the fallen pieces.

“Tell that to the video feed, you moron.” Rumlow let out a barked laugh. He found a chair and sat down, leering at Tony from across the room. He nodded to the cat carrier. “Are you going to let your _boyfriend_ out? Or are you going to leave him in there all day?”

Tony sighed and crawled around the cat carrier, still looking for parts. He locked eyes with Bucky. The cat looked irritated, but wasn’t attacking the cat carrier’s bars. “You ok, sweetie?” Tony asked, pulling open the cage.

Bucky darted past Tony, rubbing his tail against Tony’s bare arm, and bounded up to the tower of boxes. He assumed his position on the top of the tower and made himself comfortable.

Tony sighed again and looked down at the parts sitting in the palm of his good hand. Today was going to be a long day.

 

 

Tony worked on his side of the table, cataloguing and counting the parts he had collected. His stomach was growling as though it was an animal trying to rip its way out of his chest, and he was all too aware that breakfast was long gone.

“Stop making that _noise_ ,” Hammer said from his side of the table.

“It’s my stomach. I can’t fucking control it,” Tony said, lifting his head to glare at Hammer. “Stop complaining and get back to work.”

“You might be smarter than some people, Stark, but that doesn’t mean you’re the boss of me,” Hammer said.

“If you fuck up, it screws both of us over. You do realize that, right?” Tony said. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his bad hand, trying to stretch his sore fingers and immediately regretted it. He would have given anything for some ice and a nice antibiotic cream.

“I know that,” Hammer grunted, jamming two parts together. “I’m not stupid.”

“Good,” Tony muttered under his breath. He glanced up at Bucky and wished for the tenth time that day that the cat would come down and cuddle with him. The room felt like it was getting colder and colder, and he was covered in goosebumps that wouldn’t go away no matter how much he rubbed at his cold skin. He wondered idly if Rumlow would be bringing them food, or if they were going to suffer with nothing until they were finished their task.

“If you hadn’t dropped all of those pieces we’d be done by now,” Hammer said.

“You’re the one who kicked my hand!” Tony said.

“You were being an _asshole_ ,” Hammer said with a sniff.

“Fuck you,” Tony growled, slamming his good hand down on the table. The parts in front of him danced and wobbled in place.

Hammer’s eyes widened. “Don’t do that!”

“Oh, _now_ you’re worried?” Tony hissed. “You didn’t seem to give a shit when you were fucking things up before!”

“That was different,” Hammer said, glaring at Tony.

“How? _How_ was that different?” Tony said in exasperation.

“I was mad at you then!” Hammer said, picking up a new handful of parts.

Tony bit down on his lower lip to keep from screaming in rage. He had been wrong – he had thought Rumlow being around had been a hellish nightmare, but no. Sitting beside Justin Hammer, trying to get work done – _this_ was hell.

Rumlow let out a loud, jaw-cracking yawn and shifted in his chair; the metal creaked ominously as he moved, as though it was debating on falling apart. “Are you two finished yet or what?”

“Stark hasn’t even _started_ his part,” Hammer grunted. “He’s slowing everything down.”

Tony bristled and sat up a little straighter in his chair. “I’m cataloguing _parts_ , Justin.”

“You’re wasting _time_ , Tony,” Hammer retorted.

“If we don’t know how many parts we have, how are we supposed to know if something is missing?” Tony said through gritted teeth. “If we put it together and it doesn’t work we’re fucked.”

“It’s not that hard to build an auto-clamp, Stark,” Hammer said. “If you’re having trouble, maybe you should go lie down or something.”

Tony glowered at Hammer. He thought about throwing the cog he had in his hand at Hammer’s head and then calmly put it down and stood up. Fine. If Hammer wanted to be a jackass, then he could be a jackass; there were things to do, and he didn’t have the time to waste being angry. Tony turned away from the table and began slowly shuffling away, scanning the floor with each step. He didn’t have to be a genius to know that there were parts missing and no matter what Hammer said about it not being hard to build an auto-clamp, it was pretty fucking hard to build one when you didn’t even have the goddamned _clamp_ parts yet.

“Hey,” Hammer said, his voice a squeak. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m looking for parts,” Tony said. He rubbed at his injured hand and gave it a shake, wishing there was a way to make the pain go away. He would have sold a kidney for an Advil.

“We’re supposed to be working,” Hammer said. “You can’t just wander off when you feel like it.”

“I’m working,” Tony said. He was fairly certain his left eye was going to start twitching and never stop. “Just shut the fuck up and let me work.”

“He’s not working,” Hammer called out. “Are you seeing this? He’s not working.”

Rumlow yawned into his arm. “What are you whining about now?”

“Stark’s not working,” Hammer said. “He’s just screwing around while I’m doing all the work.”

Rumlow looked over at Tony and then back at the table. “Stark’s working,” he said.

“He’s not!” Hammer said. “He’s just wandering around.”

“I’m looking for parts,” Tony snapped, turning to glare at Hammer. “You do realize that we’re still missing things, or have I not made that clear to you?”

Hammer snorted and jammed another part into place. “You’re full of shit. I want you to know,” he said, looking at Rumlow, “This wasn’t my idea. I shouldn’t have to be punished because he’s screwing around and pretending to work.”

“Is that so?” Rumlow growled. He leaned forwards, elbows resting on his knees and gazed over at Tony. “Are you pretending to work, Stark? Are you spending your time thinking about your boyfriend instead? Are you ignoring Madame Hydra’s orders?”

Tony felt the blood drain from his face. The last thing he wanted was for Rumlow to believe Hammer’s bullshit. “I’m looking for parts!” he said, his voice bordering on shrill. “We’re missing at least five different pieces – two of which are kind of important.”

“Too bad your boyfriend isn’t helping you look for them,” Rumlow called out from his seat.

Tony scowled and turned back to scouring the floor for parts. He jumped when something soft and furry brushed against his leg.

Bucky looked up at Tony. He had a piece of the missing clamp in his mouth. He dropped it at Tony’s feet and darted away, vanishing into the stack of boxes again, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.

“Maybe I spoke too soon,” Rumlow grumbled.

Tony picked the piece of clamp up and cradled it in his hands. He smiled softly. One down, four more to go. Maybe things weren’t going to be so hard after all.

 

 

Tony tried to remain calm as he watched Hammer finish the auto-clamp. The device was simple. When someone pressed a button – likely using the remote Tony had built earlier – the clamp would engage and press down on whatever it was positioned over. The entire contraption wasn’t complicated to assemble – but as it had been assembled by Justin Hammer, Tony itched to take it apart and check that it worked. Not that he really wanted it to work, truth be told. Tony knew, having memorized The Chair’s blueprints, that there was an auto-clamp attached to both arms and legs of the Chair; if they were helping Hydra build a new Chair like Rumlow had said, he would have Hammer’s work on such an important part. At least then the person being brainwashed would stand a chance of staying themselves once everything was done – assuming the fuck-ups didn’t kill the person outright.

Rumlow took the auto-clamp away from Hammer and handed it over to Tony with a flourish. “Do your thing, sweetheart,” he said. When Hammer opened his mouth to complain, Rumlow jabbed him in the nose. “Keep your trap shut.”

Hammer clutched his nose and whimpered.

Rumlow leaned close, his face mere inches from Hammer’s. “Listen very carefully,” he said. “If Stark finds something he needs to fix, I’m going to strip you and you won’t get your clothing back until you’re done here.”

Hammer nodded quickly. “It’ll work.”

“Good,” Rumlow said. “Now I’m going to go get your lunches. You boys have fun while I’m gone.”

Tony watched Rumlow walk out the red door, the auto-clam clutched in hand.

Hammer glared at Tony. “This is all your fault,” he said, dropping his hands to the table.

“You ended up here all on your own,” Tony said, reaching for a mini screwdriver. “Don’t give me that shit.”

“I didn’t asks to end up here,” Hammer said, glaring at Tony.

“Neither did I,” Tony said. He opened up the back of the auto-clamp, grimacing every time he turned the screwdriver; it was slow, tedious work. His injured hand wasn’t cooperating, and he had a feeling that if he didn’t work fast – if he worked too slowly for Rumlow’s taste – he might end up being punished too despite following orders.

Hammer clenched his fists. “You’d better not find _anything_ wrong,” he said.

“Then _you’d_ better not have fucked up,” Tony said.

“I didn’t fuck up! I know what I’m doing with stuff like this,” Hammer said, banging his fist on the table. “I might not be a spoiled rotten super genius, but I’m still an engineer you know. I went to school – I did my time just like you!”

Tony set a piece of the auto-clamp aside so he could peer at its inner workings. He didn’t want to admit to Rumlow that he had found anything wrong with the auto-clamp, but that didn’t mean he could ignore a mistake and hand it off either. Madame Hydra was going to test the tech, and if he pretended everything was fine just to keep Hammer in clothes, he would ruin what little trust he had earned. He took a gear out and flipped it over, putting it in the right way. Fucking Hammer. Always screwing up.

Hammer let out a huffed whimper.

“Hey,” Tony grunted, glaring across the table at Hammer. “I’m not liking this either, but I’d rather see your fuck-ugly junk than have the shit beaten out of me.”

“Typical Stark,” Hammer muttered, glaring at Tony. “Always looking out for _himself_.”

“Typical Hammer,” Tony grunted, fixing another misplaced cog, “Too stupid to admit that you fucked up.” He ignored Hammer frothing in rage on the other side of the table and squinted to get a better look into the auto-clamp. It would have been easier if he had had a magnifying glass for this kind of tricky work but he could still get a decent look at what was inside the device without one. Sighing, he pulled out another gear and flipped it over, putting it back in the same spot. “You’ve been doing some of this backwards.”

Hammer’s rage vanished, replaced by terror. “ _What_?”

“The gears are all in backwards,” Tony said, not looking up from the auto-clamp. “And you need to file away the excess soldering or none of this is going to move.” He pulled an offending piece free and reached blindly for a file.

Hammer shoved the file into Tony’s hand. “Fix it!”

“That’s what I’m _trying_ to do,” Tony grumbled. He took the file and got to work.

The red door opened with a clank. Rumlow strode in carrying two covered trays, one stacked on top of the other. He took one look at the file in Tony’s hand and whistled lowly, grinning from ear-to-ear. “I see Stark found a mistake,” he said. He set the trays down on the table, leaving one near Tony and one near Hammer and loomed over Hammer as the man cowered in his chair. “You fucked up. Strip,” he said.

“You aren’t _seriously_ expecting me to stand around naked, are you?” Hammer stammered.

Rumlow seized Hammer by the shirt and dragged him away from the table. “You heard the rules,” he said, flatly. “The cold’ll do you some good. Maybe this time you’ll learn to listen to what I say.”

Tony didn’t look up from his work. He cringed at Hammer’s squeals and yelps and hunched his shoulders when cold air seemed to start pumping into the room. His injured hand spasmed as he put the file down and he had to press it flat against the table to keep from dropping the auto-clamp.

“See?” Rumlow said, pushing Hammer back into the metal chair. “Sit down. Eat your lunch.”

Hammer stood up with a whimper, one hand clamped over his groin and the other pressed to his bare ass. “It’s cold,” he said.

“No _shit_ ,” Rumlow said. He pretended to look shocked and then stalked over to his chair and sat down, grinning wolfishly at Hammer. “Sit. If you don’t sit, you don’t eat.”

Hammer stared down at the covered tray in front of him.

“If I were you,” Tony muttered, “I’d sit and eat.”

“You’re not the boss of me, Stark,” Hammer said.

“Fine,” Tony said, putting the auto-clamp back together. He put it down and pulled his tray over, popping it open. Inside was a steaming bowl of Thai chicken soup and a slice of thick white bread. In the corner, there was a mug of hot water and a teabag.

Hammer grimaced and sat down. “Fine. But I’m not sitting because you told me to.”

Tony sighed into his soup. He hoped they didn’t have anything else to fix; today had already been long enough – with or without Hammer around. He didn’t want to trap Bucky in his cat carrier again, but he didn’t see a way of drawing things out any longer either unless he wanted to risk ending up naked in front of Hammer – or Rumlow, _again_.

“This is better grub than yesterday,” Hammer said. “That’s not fair.” He gave Tony a sullen stare and went back to eating.

Tony tried not to laugh and ate as slowly as he dared. His stomach appreciated that; soon, he was full, sleepy and while his hand was still throbbing, it was tolerable. He felt something furry brush against his leg and reached down with his free hand so he could give Bucky a pat. The cat sniffed his fingers, inspecting the damage done to Tony’s hand and gave Tony’s knuckles a gentle lick.

“Stop fooling around with your boyfriend,” Rumlow said, squinting at Tony. “Do that on your time, not mine.”

Tony scowled. “Bucky’s a cat,” he said. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Rumlow grinned. “Sure. You keep telling yourself that.”

Tony ran his hand over Bucky’s back. He frowned. That couldn’t be right. The cat’s bones were easier to feel than normal even through the cat’s fluffy fur. He turned slightly so his lap would look like a good target for a nap and was pleased when Bucky jumped up onto his knees unprompted.

“Do the other Avengers know you want to fuck an animal?” Rumlow asked.

Tony’s left eye began to twitch again.

Hammer snorted. “Typical Stark. Focused on pussy.”

Tony scowled. He put his spoon down and felt along Bucky’s back, fingers moving stiffly as blood began to flow back to his extremities. He took in a sharp breath through his teeth and winced when Bucky leaned against him. The cat had definitely lost weight – a lot of weight. “Is he getting fed?” he asked, turning so he could look over at Rumlow.

Rumlow smiled sweetly. “Nope.”

Tony’s mouth went dry. “You didn’t _feed_ him?” How could someone not feed a cat? Cats weren’t magical little fluffballs that sustained themselves on fairy dust and rainbows – they needed _food_ and _water_ , and if they didn’t get it they would quickly head to death’s door. Tony clenched his fists. This was wrong. This couldn’t be happening.

“Aww,” Rumlow cooed from his chair. “Is Stark feeling _sad_?”

“You need to feed him,” Tony said, his voice hoarse.

“Do I?” Rumlow said. “Really? I _do_? Cats need food? That’s news to me.”

Tony bared his teeth. He opened his mouth, ready to tell Rumlow _exactly_ what he thought of him in explicit detail when Bucky sank his claws into his thigh.

It felt like all the air hissed out of Tony’s lungs as Bucky’s claws retracted. Tony closed his mouth and looked down at the cat, confused by the sudden attack.

Bucky looked like he was ready to fall over. He pushed his nose against Tony’s bare forearm; his nose was dry, and cracked.

Tony carded his fingers through Bucky’s fur and glanced over at the mug of steaming water that was to be his tea. At least he had something to offer Bucky – once it cooled down. If Rumlow wasn’t going to feed Bucky, he would have to do it, and if that meant sacrificing his own food he would do it gladly. He picked up the slice of bread and broke it into pieces in his hand. He only wished he could offer Bucky the soup too, but it was too spicy for a cat to handle and would likely do more harm than good. He held the bits of bread out in his hand under Bucky’s nose. “Here you go, buddy,” he murmured. Please eat, he thought. Please eat. Please don’t get sick and die. He couldn’t handle watching the cat starve – not after watching Peggs die. He needed to find a way to make this right – to save Bucky – before it was too late.

Bucky gobbled up the bread. He nosed at Tony’s thumb when the food was gone and looked up at Tony expectantly. He licked his lips.

Tony smiled softly and put more pieces of bread in his hand. He didn’t know if eating nothing but bread would be good for a cat, but it was better than letting the poor guy waste away.

Bucky gobbled up the next handful just as eagerly.

Hammer cleared his throat.

Tony looked up, instantly suspicious. “What?”

Hammer pushed his slice of bread across the table over to Tony.

Tony frowned. Was this a trick? He squinted at Hammer, unsure of what to do.

“Hey,” Hammer grumbled, returning to his soup. “I’m an asshole but I’m not _that_ much of a monster. Feed the damn cat. He looks like a stiff breeze could blow him away.”

Tony sighed and slumped in his seat. “Thanks,” he said.

“Don’t thank me,” Hammer said, putting his teabag in his mug of hot water. “You’re the one with the Avengers at your beck and call. You being here is probably the only way I’ll get rescued – and even if you _are_ an ass, I need you. Besides, keeping Captain America’s cat alive _has_ to win me some brownie points.”

Tony chuckled. He picked his mug of hot water up and tested it with his finger, hoping that it had cooled down. While it was considerably cooler than before it was still a little too warm for a cat. He looked around and then grinned to himself. They were surrounded by cement and the room was freezing. What better way was there to make something cold? He set the mug down on the floor, keeping an eye on Rumlow over his shoulder in case the bastard decided to come kick the cup over, and fed Bucky more bread as he waited for the water to cool.

Bucky ate ravenously, finishing off handful after handful of bread. When Tony held the mug of water under his nose, he drank, his pink tongue flapping for what seemed like hours. When he was finally finished, he rubbed his wet nose against the inside of Tony’s wrist and settled on Tony’s lap, purring all the while.

Tony beamed, pleased that he had managed to make things better, even marginally.

Rumlow, unfortunately, was _not_ pleased to see Bucky fed and happy. He stood up, kicking his chair away. “What did you just do?” he said.

Tony hugged Bucky close, trying to protect the drowsy cat. “You didn’t say I couldn’t feed him,” he said quickly.

Rumlow aimed a kick at the table. “And I didn’t you could feed the little fucker either, now did I?”

“Stark’s right,” Madame Hydra’s voice boomed through the speakers.

Rumlow staggered, nearly falling over as he hurried to put his leg down. “Madame?”

“Let them finish their meal in peace, Rumlow,” Madame Hydra said. “They’ve earned it. You can torment them later.”

Rumlow glared at Tony; he clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides but didn’t move to take another swipe at the table. “Understood,” he said. He shifted in place and leaned closer to Tony so his mouth was near Tony’s ear. “When she’s finished watching, you and your boyfriend are going to pay for this.”

Tony swallowed hard and hugged Bucky a little tighter.

 

 

When they were finished eating, their trays were taken away; Rumlow left with Hammer’s clothing balled up, tucked under his arm and the trays in hand.

Hammer shifted in place, trying to keep warm, his hands clamped in front of his groin. He stared enviously at Tony’s shirt and sweat pants, but didn’t say anything, likely too afraid to bring Rumlow’s wrath down on him twice in one day.

Tony held Bucky against his chest, cuddling the cat as much as he could, knowing that all too soon, Rumlow would be back. The cat carrier was right beside him, and he wanted to boot it across the room, even if that meant having a throbbing foot _and_ hand.

“You really like that cat, don’t you?” Hammer asked.

“It’s Steve’s cat,” Tony said. “I’m supposed to take care of Bucky for him.”

“Seems a lot like Bucky’s _your_ cat,” Hammer said through chattering teeth.

Tony shrugged and pressed a kiss to the top of Bucky’s head.

Rumlow returned empty handed. He clapped his hands. “Let’s get this show on the road. Your boyfriend goes in the carrier – now, Stark. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Tony knelt and carefully put Bucky into the cat carrier. He latched the door with reluctance. He had to force himself to move away from the carrier this time; he didn’t want to leave Bucky in Rumlow’s hands now that he knew the cat wouldn’t be fed, but there wasn’t much choice, not unless he wanted to risk getting himself killed and without his suit and the use of Extremis, that was far too likely an outcome.

Rumlow carried Bucky away, letting the door slam behind him. He returned a few minutes later without the cat carrier, and without Hammer’s clothing.

Hammer wilted at the sight. “You’re going to make me walk naked back to my cell?”

Rumlow smiled broadly. “Oh look – you’re using your _brain_. Good for you.” He pulled the door open and motioned for Hammer to head out into the hallway. He held a hand out when Tony moved to join them. “Not you. You get to wait.”

Hammer hurried out the door; Rumlow sauntered out after him, letting the door slam as it closed.

Tony stood stock-still where he had been left. He wanted to pace – to maybe sprint across the room and work the kinks out of his sore muscles – but he knew that Madame Hydra was probably watching him, and he didn’t want to do anything to upset her, not with Pepper and Rhodey still in cells – not with the Chair possibly rebuilt and ready for use. He let out a shaky breathe. If Hydra had the Chair in their hands, there would be no stopping them from getting a foothold back in the world. They could turn anyone to their side and if that person ended up being Pepper? Well, Stark Industries would be under Hydra control and SHIELD wouldn’t be able to prove anything – not unless someone showed up with proof of the Chair’s existence. He hoped to whatever gods and goddesses Thor said were up there that Hydra didn’t have Extremis under their control too. If that happened they would be well and truly fucked.

The red door opened. Rumlow stepped into the doorway and held the door open. “Let’s go, lover boy.”

Tony stepped outside.

“You’re going to enjoy what I’ve got waiting for you in your cell,” Rumlow said. “You know the way back. Go.”

Tony started walking.

 

 

The lights were on in Tony’s cell when he opened the door and stumbled inside, shivering. There, sitting in the corner of the room beside Tony’s crusty mattress, was Bucky’s cat carrier – with Bucky inside it. Tony stared agape at the cat carrier. What was Bucky doing here? Was Madame Hydra letting him keep the cat after a job well done?

Rumlow stepped into the cell behind Tony and carefully closed the door. “I see you spotted your boyfriend,” he said.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked.

Rumlow struck fast; his fist collided with Tony’s gut, driving the air from Tony’s lungs. Tony blinked through tears of pain and staggered to his left, trying to get away. But there was no getting away – not now that he was in a cell with one door and nothing to hide behind. Rumlow hit Tony again and again, each attack precisely aimed to cause the maximum amount of damage possible. Tony curled into a ball feebly, trying to keep his hands out of the way so it wouldn’t look like he was fighting back. It didn’t matter if he did; he knew that much. Rumlow would probably hit him harder if he tried to block him and Madame Hydra wasn’t telling Rumlow to stop – there would be no end to the pain until Rumlow was satisfied.

After a while, the blows stopped.

Tony wheezed wetly into the floor, gasping and bleeding. His good hand had been spared from the attack, but his damaged hand hadn’t; it was throbbing even worse than before, and he was fairly certain he had broken a bone or two. He could barely curl his fingers without excruciating pain and the cuts had opened up again.

“Did you _enjoy_ that as much as I did?” Rumlow said, standing over Tony. The bastard wasn’t even winded. He cracked his knuckles and nudged Tony’s shoulder with his boot. “Did you hear me down there?”

Tony grimaced. “I heard you.”

“And?”

“The answer is no. I did not enjoy that,” Tony said with a gasp as he was hit by a wave of nausea.

“I wonder if your boyfriend enjoyed watching,” Rumlow drawled. He walked over to the cat carrier and knelt in front of it. He smacked his hand against the side of the carrier trying to get Bucky’s attention – not that he needed to. “Did you hear me in there, Barnes? Did you like seeing your precious Stark getting smacked around?”

Bucky’s growl was low and loud. He attacked the bars, trying to claw at Rumlow, but couldn’t reach far enough to get at him. The carrier shook as he tried to ram the door.

Rumlow laughed. He picked up the cat carrier and set it down beside Tony’s head.

Tony stared weakly into the cat carrier. He wanted to mumble that it would be alright – that things would be fine – but he didn’t have the energy. He reached out feebly, fingers brushing the bars, and jerked his hand away just in time to avoid Rumlow’s stomp.

Rumlow grinned and knelt beside Tony. “You’ve been played for a patsy. You know that, right?”

Tony kept his gaze on Bucky.

“You’ve been cuddling up to a monster, Stark,” Rumlow said. “Steve Rogers handed you a murderer in fur, and you didn’t even know it – you took care of it and cuddled it – gave it your food – but that doesn’t mean it gives a shit about you.” He stood up and hoisted the cat carrier off of the floor. “Bucky Barnes doesn’t care about you. If he did, he would have told you what was going on instead of stringing you along.”

Tony closed his eyes. He didn’t know what to say. Rumlow sounded like he had finally cracked. Nothing made any sense. Bucky was a cat – wasn’t he?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this up! Let me know if you spot anything funky and I'll fix it as soon as possible! :D


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony was not happy waking up with Madame Hydra in the same room with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for blood, mentions of torture and injuries/nudity.

Tony’s back ached; he slipped in and out of consciousness, aware of little more than the cold concrete beneath his body. He could hear Rumlow’s voice occasionally, but couldn’t bring himself to lift his head to see what was going on. His hand felt like it was permanently curled into a fist; on the rare occasion he was awake long enough to try and move, he found his fingers stiff and unruly.

Tony woke with a grunt.

“Stark,” Madame Hydra murmured. She was holding a needle in her hand and kneeling beside Tony. “Don’t struggle.”

Tony lifted his head and blinked back sleep. He could feel the scratch of the filthy mattress beneath his body; he was naked again, and covered in bruises. Every breath hurt. Every twitch of his muscles made him want to whimper. He forced himself to remain still even though his mind was screaming for him to get up and run. What was she planning on injecting him with? Was it something bad? Something good? Painkillers? Virus? Poison?

Madame Hydra plunged the needle into Tony’s shoulder. She depressed the plunger and then pulled the needle back out, putting it into a plastic case beside her foot. She closed the case and pushed it behind her, out of Tony’s reach. “There,” she said. “That’s better.”

“What was that?” Tony croaked.

“It’s what keeps that pesky Extremis of yours from working,” Madame Hydra said. She smiled down at Tony, baring her teeth. “You’ve been ingesting it every time you eat, but since you’ve been unconscious and not eating, I’ve had to inject it manually this time.”

Tony shivered and wrapped his arms around himself with a groan. Oh _fuck_ – he had been ingesting the thing keeping Extremis dormant? Goddamn it!

“Don’t feel too badly,” Madame Hydra said, patting Tony on the head. “Really, you’re lucky it’s worked. I’ve seen it fail spectacularly, and believe me when I say the results are quite the mess.”

Tony shuddered.

“Don’t be like that, Stark. Everything’s fine – for now,” Madame Hydra said. “Colonel Rhodes and Ms. Potts are sitting very comfortably in their cells, waiting for you to finish healing up. I had my doctor cut the electronics from them – they weren’t getting any of what I’ve been giving you. They’re not vomiting up their innards, but they’re not sending out any distress signals either.”

“Great,” Tony mumbled.

“You’ll be getting up soon,” Madame Hydra said. She prodded Tony in the side, hitting a particularly sensitive and deep bruise.

Tony yelped and tried to roll away but only succeeded in hurting himself more. He gasped into the mattress, drained of energy.

“You’re lucky, you know that, don’t you?” Madame Hydra said, her voice whisper soft.

Tony closed his eyes.

“I could have let him destroy you,” Madame Hydra said, standing up. She picked up the case and put her foot on Tony’s back, pressing down on another bruise.

Tony gasped.

“You _will_ behave yourself,” Madame Hydra said. “I’ll send someone in to bandage up your hand later if you eat your dinner and don’t bait Rumlow any more than you already have.”

Tony heard footsteps and the door opened and closed. Sighing, he opened his eyes and pulled his injured hand closer to his face. It didn’t look any worse than it had the last time he had seen it; it was swollen, and the palm was bruised and covered in scabs where he had been punctured by the parts he had scrambled to pick up, but it didn’t look like it was in danger of falling off or doing something else equally horrible. He let his hand drop to the mattress and let out a long, slow, breath through his teeth as a new wave of pain tore through him.

A sudden sorrowful meow startled Tony so badly, he nearly rolled off the mattress and onto the floor. Turning sluggishly, he managed to get his body arranged so he could see the rest of the room without exposing his groin to the cold.

There, sitting in his cat carrier by the wall, was Bucky. Madame Hydra had brought him more than just an injection of Extremis suppressant, it seemed.

Tony gazed mournfully at the distance that separated him from the cat. That was a lot of cold cement, and he wasn’t so sure he could get himself upright, which meant he would have to crawl the entire way; he wasn’t so sure he was up to that yet.

Bucky meowed again and pawed at the cat carrier door.

Tony sighed and gritted his teeth. He couldn’t sit by and let the cat suffer. He was going to have to suck it up and move, cold floor or no cold floor.

Despite his motivation, it was slow going.

Tony was out of breath and feeling lightheaded by the time he made it to the cat carrier; a not-so-small part of him was pleased he had managed to get there without blacking out. He opened the cat carrier, fully expecting Bucky to try and dart off to find somewhere to hide, and found himself instead with a face-full of cat.

Bucky purred, rubbing himself against Tony’s cheeks. He chirped at Tony and circled him as though checking out the new bruises. The more Bucky circled, the less pleased he looked. By the time he was finished, he looked positively murderous.

“Ok, sweetheart,” Tony mumbled, “Let’s just go sit down before I end up with my face smeared across the floor and my ass in the air. I do not want to be unconscious when Rumlow shows up.” He patted Bucky’s back, and crawled back across the floor again, moving as quickly as he could.

Bucky followed Tony over to the mattress and hovered beside him as Tony flopped down with a groan. When Tony was settled in, Bucky hopped up onto the mattress and sat down in a loaf, huddled against Tony’s side. The cat kept his gaze on the door, and while he seemed comfortable, he didn’t go to sleep.

Tony stroked Bucky’s furry head. He was glad the cat was alright after everything that had happened. He tried to focus on the cat instead of on his pain, but it was an impossible task. When he got a working suit again, he was going to give Rumlow the beating the bastard deserved. His nostrils flared. Rumlow was a lying sack of shit – spewing garbage about Bucky. The guy obviously had a few screws loose if he thought a _cat_ could be a person in disguise. “It’ll be alright, Buckaroo. I mean, Rumlow’s obviously even more bat-crap crazy than we thought, but we’ll get through this.” Tony gently untangled a patch of Bucky’s fur. “Do _you_ know what was Rumlow going on about? Because I sure as hell don’t know what he meant by all that ‘murderer in fur’ bullshit. Bucky Barnes – stringing me along? How exactly could that happen?” He closed his eyes and continued to pet Bucky, taking comfort in the softness of Bucky’s fur. “You’re a cat – aren’t you? You’re a cat. I’m being crazy – you’re obviously a cat. Christ, I’m letting that bastard get into my head.”

Bucky stiffened.

“Bucky?” Tony opened his eyes, immediately worried. “Mr. Barnes? What’s wrong?” Had the cat been hurt while he was out of Tony’s sight? Had Madame Hydra done something? Had Rumlow gotten his hands on the cat after all? The bastard had seemed pretty damn satisfied with the pain he had inflicted on Tony – could Rumlow have gone on to do something worse after he had taken the cat carrier away?

Bucky stood up and staggered across the room, moving as though he had been chased by a demon. He hung his head and huddled in the corner of the room, getting as far away from the mattress as possible. He didn’t look at Tony; he hid his face under his tail.

Tony blinked slowly, trying to process what had happened. Wait. This couldn’t be right. Rumlow had been trying to mess with his _head_ – that was all. It had to have been some kind of game – or, hell, maybe he had heard Rumlow wrong. That was possible. Totally possible. Bucky couldn’t be the _real_ Bucky Barnes. Could he? Steve would have said _something_ – Steve would _definitely_ have said something.

“Bucky?” Tony called out. He lifted his head.

Bucky huddled against the wall as though trying to melt clean through it.

“Bucky – come here, sweetie-pie,” Tony said, plaintively.

Bucky refused to move.

“Come on,” Tony said. “Rumlow was full of shit – you’re not actually Bucky Barnes. That’s not – that’s not possible.”

Bucky let out a soft sigh and turned his head away from Tony.

Tony stared at the cat in shock. “No,” he said. “This isn’t happening. This is impossible – people don’t just turn into cats!”

The door opened with a shriek and Rumlow stepped inside carrying a covered tray. He looked over at Tony and then glanced over at Bucky; his grin was so wide, it seemed like his face was going to split in two. “I see you figured it out,” he said.

Tony scowled and looked away.

“Want to hear a story?” Rumlow crooned.

“Not really,” Tony said.

“Tough shit. Story time,” Rumlow said. He walked over to Tony and dropped the covered tray onto the mattress. “Barnes was in one of our abandoned bases, looking for trouble as usual. He’s been trying to kill as many of us as he can – did you know that? Well, anyway, one of our techs got cornered and pulled out the first weapon he could find from this shitty, barely standing crate next to him – turns out it was a gun Zola made while he was drunk off his ass on peach schnapps.” Rumlow chuckled lowly. “Good old _Rogers_ came up behind Barnes, looking all righteous and proud. He went on and on, trying to get Barnes to come with him and got in between the gun and the Asset. I don’t know what Rogers was thinking. He couldn’t stop the tech from firing and in the end Barnes took a direct hit trying to keep _him_ from getting shot.”

Tony swallowed down a mouthful of bile. This was starting to sound more and more plausible. He’d seen a lot of crap with the Avengers, and it wouldn’t surprise him if someone had managed some kind of transmogrification device – if people could figure out how to turn a man into a super soldier and a Hulk, anything was possible. Oh god. He pressed his face against the mattress. Bucky was a person – and he had had no fucking clue.

Rumlow knelt down beside the mattress and placed a hand delicately on Tony’s bare ass. “I wasn’t there, but I’ve seen the security footage.”

Tony stared down at the scratchy mattress, not wanting to see the glee on Rumlow’s face.

“I bet you’re feeling pretty stupid right about now,” Rumlow said.

Bucky moved so fast, he was more blur than cat.

Before Rumlow could notice what was coming for him, the cat had sunk his teeth into Rumlow’s hand with a yowl. Bucky held on like a python trying to strangle his prey; his good back foot kicked and kicked and kicked while his good front foot’s claws dug deeply into Rumlow’s flesh.

There was blood everywhere; fur flew as Rumlow yanked at Bucky, shouting, trying to get him off of him.

It happened too fast for Tony’s frozen body to do anything more than jerk forwards.

Rumlow punched Bucky hard, slamming his fist into the cat’s tiny body. Winded and stunned, Bucky was thrown across the room like a limp rag. The cat hit the wall behind the mattress and landed awkwardly on his back leg; there was a sickening crack.

Tony knew at once that it was bad – legs weren’t supposed to bend that way.

Rumlow, his arm dripping with blood, his flesh torn and pierced, glared at Bucky. “You fucking piece of _shit_ ,” he snarled.

Tony heaved himself upright and overtop of Bucky, using his body as a shield. “Don’t!”

Rumlow grabbed Tony by the hair. “Oh? Are you still trying to save your _boyfriend_?” he hissed.

Tony’s eyes watered as Rumlow yanked on his hair again. “He’s just trying to protect me,” he said.

“Am I supposed to give a shit about that?” Rumlow said. He shoved Tony backwards and out of the way and glared down at Bucky, baring his teeth. “I’m going to stomp you flat, you psychotic _hairball_.”

Bucky’s ears flattened against his head. He hissed at Rumlow.

Rumlow grinned. “This is going to hurt,” he said. “I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.”

“Rumlow.” Madame Hydra’s voice was piercing as it came in through the speakers.

Rumlow’s grin vanished and was replace by a bitter scowl. He lowered his fists to his sides and stepped back from the mattress; he didn’t look like he wanted to obey, but the need to please his boss was too ingrained in him to let him keep moving on his own. “Yes, Madame?” he said. “I was just punishing Barnes for attacking me.”

“He’s been punished enough,” Madame Hydra said. “Leave Stark to eat in peace. He’s going to return the Asset to our control when he’s finished repairing the gun that idiot used. I want the Asset intact – do you understand?”

“I understand,” Rumlow said. He locked eyes with Tony. “I’ll be back for you later,” he said. He turned and left the room, carefully shutting the door behind him.

“Eat, Stark,” Madame Hydra said, her voice crackling with feedback.

Tony looked down at Bucky as he reached blindly for the tray Rumlow had dropped for him. “Can I call in a favor here?” he asked, opening the tray.

Bucky’s ears flicked. His eyes narrowed dangerously.

“What kind of favor?” Madame Hydra said, sounding amused.

“If you want me to take care of your Asset – if you want him intact like you’re saying – you’re going to have to get him some medical attention,” Tony said. “I don’t know if you know this, but cats don’t generally deal with pain and sickness as well as humans. Sure, they can put up with it, but if they don’t eat and they don’t get medical treatment fast they’re more likely to die.”

“So you’re offering me what, exactly, in return for this favor?” Madame Hydra drawled.

“I’ll work – I’ll fix whatever you want as best as I can as fast as possible – if you get us a doctor,” Tony said. He focused on the plate in the tray, on the peanut butter and jam sandwich and what appeared to be a salad made of green apple chunks, walnuts and little marshmallows. He opened the covered cup, expecting to find watery coffee, and instead found chicken soup. Clearly, someone in the kitchen was having a bad day too.

“You don’t get to command me to do anything. You’ll work as fast as possible and to the best of your ability unless you want to die,” Madame Hydra said. She laughed. “But I said I’d send a doctor in for you already, so I suppose I can send one in for Barnes. After all – what good is an assassin that can’t walk properly?”

The speakers crackled and fell silent.

Tony took the lid off the chicken soup and gave it a stir with the spoon he found in the covered tray. The soup was thick and had chunks of potato and chicken in it; best of all, it wasn’t boiling hot and would be safe for a cat to eat. He poured some of the soup into the lid that had come with the cup and set it down in front of Bucky.

Bucky sighed and stared down at the soup.

“You’re really Bucky Barnes, aren’t you?” Tony said, softly.

Bucky nodded.

“You should have said something,” Tony said. He seethed inwardly, furious with himself for having been so stupid – for having believed that Bucky was just a cat. Looking back, he could see that Bucky hadn’t _ever_ been like a normal cat. Bucky had seemed unnaturally smart – almost too smart at times – but he hadn’t realized that that was because the cat had understood everything that was going on. He hated that he hadn’t known. He hated that there was nothing he could do to go back in time and fix all of the mistakes he had made. Christ – he had taken Bucky to a vet instead of a doctor. He should have just brought the cat in to SHIELD and let them sort it out. Instead, he had assumed that he had known everything and now he had made an ass out of himself.

Bucky meowed softly. He put his front paw on Tony’s leg; his footpads were warm against Tony’s chilled skin.

“Just eat. We can talk about all of this shit later when you can talk for real,” Tony said. He bit into the peanut butter sandwich and forced himself to eat.

 

 

When the door opened again, Tony was on edge, ready to lunge and throw himself in front of Bucky again. His own pain had quieted down, mainly because of the cold. His bruises didn’t seem to want to irritate him so much now; he wondered idly if the injection Madame Hydra had given him to keep Extremis at bay was starting to fail, and the virus was slowly healing him after all. He hoped that was the case. If it was, he was going to call a suit to him and burn this place to the ground.

“Stay where you are, Stark,” Rumlow said. “The doctor’s coming in.”

Melody stepped stiffly into the room. She was clutching a first aid kit against her chest, and seemed like she was about to trip over her own feet. She looked like shit; her hair was dishevelled, her clothing stained with blood in places, and she was clearly not happy to be here even if she did seem to brighten up when she saw Tony. Someone had given her a black eye, and while it had been allowed to heal, it looked far too fresh for Tony’s liking. It was unlikely she was working for Hydra, judging by the way she kept glancing over her shoulder every few seconds. When Tony had asked for a doctor, he hadn’t expected to see a vet; but then again, maybe having a vet around was better, because at least this way someone would be able to treat Bucky’s wounds.

Rumlow sauntered in behind Melody with a folding chair under his arm. He shut the door behind him and whistled as he walked over to the side of the room so he could set up his seat and watch what was about to happen. Finally seated, he crossed his arms over his chest and leered at Tony. “Looking good, Tony,” he said. “I told you you’d bruise up nicely.”

Tony grimaced and pushed the covered tray across the floor with his foot in Rumlow’s direction. He turned to Melody and sighed when she shook her head at him and didn’t speak.

“She’s not here to chat and catch up,” Rumlow said. “She’s here to patch you and the furball up – that’s it.”

“Right,” Tony said. He shifted so he wasn’t giving Melody an unwanted peep show and lay down on his side as Melody picked Bucky up.

Bucky remained calm in her hands. He glanced between Tony and Rumlow every once in a while, as though expecting something to happen but let Melody work unhindered. Melody, for her part, did the best she could with the limited supplies she had. The now open First Aid Kit didn’t have much in it aside from medical tape, bandages, Band-Aids, antiseptic, splints, thread and some sterilized needles for stitching. There were no heavy painkillers in the bag, no morphine or anything else potent. There was, however, a sad little bottle of Advil, and that wasn’t likely to do much good for Bucky.

Tony reached out and put his hand on Bucky’s furry flank. He thought about telling Bucky it would be alright, that everything would be fine, but he couldn’t find the words. What did you tell an assassin to comfort them? Would Bucky even care? Unsure, he watched Melody work through half-lidded eyes, trying to focus on the feeling of soft fur under his fingers instead of all the questions buzzing around in his head. He wanted to ask Bucky so many things, but where was he supposed to start?

Meldoy splinted Bucky’s leg and wrapped a bandage around it to keep the wood from moving. “Don’t let him walk on it,” she said. “I can’t do much more for Mr. Barnes than this.”

“Alright,” Tony said. “I’ll make sure he behaves himself.”

“Let me see your hand,” Melody said. She set Bucky down on the filthy mattress and held her hand out. “I wish I had a portable x-ray machine or something,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to do this by touch alone.”

Tony put his injured hand in Melody’s with a wince and closed his eyes. “Fantastic,” he said. He bit down on a curse when Melody felt along his fingers and palm, testing his range of movement. It hurt more than he expected, and after being in the cold for so long, being _numb_ for so long, he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in the mattress and scream. Iron Man taken down by a hand injury. He was pathetic. No one else in the Avengers would be sobbing like a baby over an injured hand – he couldn’t see Natasha bursting into tears, or Clint or hell, Steve. Why was he the only one who could be brought to his knees this easily?

Bucky shifted on the mattress and dragged himself closer to Tony. He leaned his bulk against Tony’s shoulder and let out a soft meow, rubbing his wet nose against Tony’s bare skin.

“You’ll be alright,” Melody said, setting Tony’s hand down in her lap so she could reach for the First Aid kit. “It feels like something might be broken, but there’s no sign of infection from what I can see, so you’ll probably heal safely. It looks like there might be tendon damage as well but I can’t tell without actual equipment.” Melody grimaced. “I’ll tape your fingers together to straighten out the breaks, give you some Advil and get them to bring you some ice if they’ll let you have it. I don’t think I need to remind you that you shouldn’t be using it while it’s like this. Keep it out of the way and use it as little as possible. Maybe they’ll let a real doctor take a look at it eventually.”

Tony winced as Melody put his hand down on the mattress. “Thanks for the help,” he said.

Melody smiled tiredly. “I just wish I could do more.” She picked up a roll of medical tape and got to work.

Tony had never particularly enjoyed breaking bones, and from experience knew just how irritating it was having a broken bone inside his hand; Howard had done more than his fair share of bone breaking during Tony’s childhood. Tony hated hurting his hand even marginally. The human hand was far too delicate, and with most of the bones located internally, the odds of breaks not healing properly was far too high. The last thing he wanted was something limiting his movement or messing up his ability to grip – that would make it impossible to fix the armor, or even hold a pencil.

“Can I check the rest of you, Mr. Stark?” Melody asked when she was done taping Tony’s middle and index fingers together.

Tony groaned. There was no getting out of it; there was nowhere to run, even if he could manage it. “Sure – knock yourself out. Just be kind to me – I’m a delicate flower right now.”

Melody chuckled. Her hands were soft and gentle as she poked and prodded at Tony’s many bruises. She was careful with him as she rolled him over and while she was forced to look at every part of him, she was tactful when she checked the bruises on his hip and ass, not quite avoiding them but not blushing over them either. When she was finished, she nodded to herself. “The scrapes have all healed over with no lasting damage,” she said, speaking as though she was talking to herself instead of to Tony. “He’s lucky. It’s mostly just bad bruising and a few possible sprains.”

“Good,” Madame Hydra’s voice boomed from the hidden speakers in the room, making both Melody and Tony jump. “You can leave now. Hand him nothing but the Advil. I’ll have Rumlow bring him some water and ice when he’s working. Perhaps you’ll get out of here alive after all.”

Melody flushed and looked down at the floor. “Thank you, Madame,” she said.

Tony pulled his injured hand into his chest and held it close, not sure what to think.

Melody looked over at Tony. Her voice was soft, barely audible. “They threw me in a van after they took you,” she said. “They told me that if they couldn’t find a use for me they’d kill me.” She stood up. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” Tony said. He gave her a thumbs up with his good hand. “Thanks for the help again.”

Melody collected her medical supplies slowly, making sure everything was in its proper place. She set the bottle of Advil on the mattress beside Tony and stood up. “You should probably bring some cat food in with the ice,” she said to Rumlow. Her tone made it clear how much she disapproved of the cat not having been fed, and while she looked absolutely terrified when Rumlow stood up, folding the chair under his arm in order to follow her out, she held her ground. “You should feed him. Unless, of course, you _want_ the cat to die.”

Rumlow grinned at Melody.

“Get moving, vet,” Madame Hydra said through the speakers again. “Rumlow, bring Stark ice and the Asset proper food.”

Rumlow scooped the covered tray up from the floor. “You heard the lady,” he said. “ _March_.”

Melody hurried out through the door without looking back.

“I’ll be back to get that bottle of Advil, Stark,” Rumlow called out over his shoulder. “Don’t bother trying to cannibalize it for parts.”

Tony rolled his eyes and sat up as the cell door closed. He opened the bottle after a good five attempts, cursing the child safety lock the entire time, and dry-swallowed two pills. He closed the bottle and let it drop back onto the mattress beside him before carefully settling down on his stomach. His bruises ached from Melody’s prodding and his hand was not entirely happy with having been manhandled. Beside him, Bucky let out a long suffering sigh.

“Hey,” Tony said, prodding Bucky with his good hand.

Bucky flinched away and then ducked his head, seemingly ashamed of having moved.

“You know, if you and Steve had _said_ something about Hydra being after you we might not have ended up here,” Tony muttered.

Bucky tucked his tail around his nose and hid his face.

“I’m not saying I blame you for keeping quiet,” Tony said. “I’m just saying it would have been nice to know what the fuck was going on.”

Bucky let out a soft sigh.

“Did Jarvis know about this?” Tony asked. “Who knew what was going on? Was I the only one out of the loop?” He snorted. “You know what – I don’t want to know right now. I don’t want to even think about this shit until I’m home in my fucking penthouse with my goddamned tech and a nice, clean bed.” He turned his head slightly so he could glare at Bucky. “You and Steve are in so much _trouble_.”

The cell door opened and Rumlow stalked back, his arms full. He threw a blue ice-pack at Tony and grinned when it bounced off Tony’s bare ass. “There,” he said. “You got some ice. Enjoy it.”

“Gee,” Tony said with a grimace, picking up the ice-pack. He held it against his hand and sighed in relief as the cold started to work its magic.

Rumlow dropped a bag of no-name brand dry cat food in front of Tony’s face, nearly hitting him with it. “Here’s your furball food.”

Tony smiled sweetly. “Thank you.”

Rumlow snorted. “You’re a piece of work, Stark, you know that, right?”

Tony pulled the bag of cat food closer. “I know,” he said.

“You were led around by your fucking nose, and here you are, sitting with the Asset like you’re still _pals_ ,” Rumlow said. “You know he doesn’t give a shit about you, right? All that attacking he did was just for show – he’s trying to kiss-up because he knows he’s screwed himself over. The Asset sinking his teeth into my hand means _nothing_.”

Tony shrugged and opened the bag of cat food. He pulled a handful of the cat kibble out set it on the mattress in front of Bucky. “Bon appetite.”

Bucky’s tail twitched.

“I’d eat if I were you, Barnes,” Rumlow growled. “Stark’s going to have to carry your ass back to his new workshop, and if you don’t eat now you won’t eat until he comes back.” He smirked at Bucky. “I’d tell Stark to load up his pockets with food, but he’s not going to get his pants back until he’s working again.”

Tony scowled. He lifted Bucky’s tail delicately away from the cat’s nose. “Eat – _please_.”

Bucky sighed again and ate.

 

 

The room with the red door was open. Tony froze in the doorway and took in what had become of the workroom, clutching Bucky to his chest. There was blood splattered all over the floor and table – not enough to mean someone had died, but enough to mean someone had been brutalized here; Tony had learned the numbers of life and death from Natasha years ago and while it was reassuring to know that the victim hadn’t bled out, it wasn’t at all comforting to see blood all over like confetti. The dust had soaked up some of the blood, leaving rusty brown splotches in its place. Blood was smeared on the boxes around the room, as though someone had staggered over to them and tried to use them somehow. What struck Tony most was a bloody handprint on the floor in a clear, dust-free, patch of cement. He hadn’t gotten that good of a look at Hammer’s hands, but even he could guess who had been beaten and punished. Or at least, he _hoped_ it was Hammer and not someone else – someone like Pepper or Rhodey. He didn’t hate Hammer, but if he had to make a choice between seeing Hammer suffer or his friends, he’d pick Hammer any day.

“What’s wrong, _Stark_?” Rumlow said from behind Tony. He shoved Tony into the room and laughed when Tony stumbled, trying to avoid both dropping Bucky and stepping in a puddle of congealed blood. “See something you don’t like?” Rumlow said. “Is your poor pretty-boy stomach having trouble? Are you squeamish? Is the blood too much?”

“Sure, Rumlow,” Tony said. He wrinkled his nose when he got a whiff of copper and dust and stepped around the puddles, making his way over to the table he normally worked at. The chair was free from blood splatter; the table, however, was not, and the cardboard box that held his day’s work was smeared with blood as though someone had picked it up without washing their hands first. Tony set Bucky down on the cleanest part of the table he could find and, still shivering and naked, got to work sorting through parts inside the box. He scowled when he was hit in the back of the head with his clothing a few minutes later. He set the glass tube he had been checking for damage down onto the table and grabbed his clothing before it could hit the floor and end up in a puddle of blood.

“I’d get dressed if I were you,” Rumlow said. He pulled a chair out, dusted it off and sat down, watching Tony with his head cocked to one side.

Tony dressed as quickly as his shaking hands would let him. He was glad for the warm fabric, even if it smelled of sweat from the many hours he had spent wearing it while working. Turning, he pulled a piece of cardboard from the box and put it on the table to keep the blood from getting on the parts he pulled out. This was a gun that reminded Tony eerily of a steam-punk super soaker, one that hadn’t been made to shoot water. Everything had been built ingeniously, each part intricate and delicate while still remaining sturdy. What bothered Tony most about it wasn’t that someone had spent so much time making the gun functional and _elegant_ – it was that half of the gun had already been assembled. Muttering to himself, he began taking it apart. All of the gears were in backwards and –Tony stiffened, a gear held in hand. _Oh_. Well, fuck.

“Figured it out?” Rumlow called out from his chair.

Tony swallowed around the lump in his throat and set the gear down. “Is he still alive?” he asked.

“Does it matter?” Rumlow asked.

“Yes,” Tony said. “It matters.” He looked down at the parts set out on the table in front of him and put his good hand over his mouth. He was glad he had his back to Rumlow, because the horror he felt would be hard to mask. He didn’t like torture, even when it was happening to someone he didn’t like and what had happened here was just that – brutal, unnecessary, torture. He felt sick to his stomach, but at the same time he was relieved to hear the truth. All he could think was: at least it wasn’t Pepper – at least it wasn’t Rhodey.

“Don’t bother crying about Hammer. He’s been causing a lot of problems for us, and kicking the shit out of him was always in the cards.”

“I see,” Tony said.

“Madame Hydra told him to use his connections to get us the parts we needed for one of our other projects,” Rumlow said with a snort. “Fucking _idiot_ told his alien thief to steal everything from _you_. I guess he figured you’d bail him out when you came to hunt him down.”

Tony looked down at the pile of gears on the table.

“Thankfully he didn’t ruin everything. All we had to do was move bases, and Madame Hydra was planning to do that anyway,” Rumlow said.

“Why are you telling me this?” Tony asked, scowling down at the gun.

“ _You_ did this, you know that, _don’t you_?” Rumlow said. “ _You_ replaced him – and with you here, there was no need to keep him in mint condition.”

Tony picked up the glass canister and turned it over in his hands. He wanted to hurl it at Rumlow’s head, but doing so would probably get him killed.

“Hammer was tasked with fixing the transmogrification gun when you were unconscious, and he didn’t do so well without you there to hold his hand. He had to be punished for his mistakes.” Rumlow rolled his shoulders and leaned back against the chair, looking up at the box tower. “He tried to hide – can you believe that? He thought I wouldn’t be able to find him if he hid behind a stack of fucking _boxes_.” Rumlow shook his head. “And I thought _you_ were pathetic,” he said.

Tony put the glass canister down with a click. He knew better than to open his mouth. It wouldn’t help him if he was beaten within an inch of his life again. One wrong word and he might end up bleeding on the floor like Hammer. He sat reached for another part and got back to work. At least now he knew exactly what the gun would be used for – Madame Hydra hadn’t been lying after all.

 

 

Tony stared down at the broken pieces of the transmogrification gun on the table in front of him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t stall any longer. He had already been working for over three hours and there was nothing left he could do – not with a cramped up hand and broken parts. Whoever it was that had collected the parts had thrown them into the box without looking at them. Half of what was here had battle damage that made them less than useless. He grimaced and stroked Bucky’s fur with his mostly-cramp-free hand. This was bad.

Bucky looked up, blinking back sleep. He had crawled into Tony’s lap while Tony was working, and had been dozing there ever since. Tony felt bad for waking him up, but he needed the contact.

“What’s taking you so long?” Rumlow growled. He approached the table and peered over Tony’s shoulder at all the broken parts Tony had lined up in a neat row. The rest of the transmogrification gun was sitting to the side on a piece of cardboard, abandoned. “You’re supposed to finish it,” Rumlow said, his voice pitched dangerously low. “Are you saying you _can’t_ finish?”

Tony cleared his throat. “I’ve gone as far as I can,” he said.

Rumlow seized Tony by the ear and yanked his head to the side. “Oh good,” he purred. “I’m going to get to beat you today after all.”

“I’m not saying I don’t _want_ to do the work,” Tony said quickly, gasping in pain.

“Oh?” Rumlow chuckled. “What are you saying then?”

“I’m saying it’s physically _impossible_ ,” Tony said.

“Explain,” Rumlow said.

“The parts on the table in front of me are damaged beyond repair – they need to be recreated from the original blueprints. It’s not something I did – or Hammer, from what I can see – it looks like it’s all damage that must have happened when the gun was broken in the first place,” Tony said. He gestured to the gun’s outer casing with his good hand. “And if you use that the way it is now you’re liable to electrocute yourself or worse.”

“And if we don’t have the original specs?” Madame Hydra said through the speakers.

“Then I’ll have to draw the pieces out by hand and hope for the best,” Tony said.

“And we can trust you to behave yourself?” Rumlow hissed.

“Do I look like I’m in any condition to screw around?” Tony said with a sigh. He winced at Rumlow tugged his ear again. “I just want to get some rest alright? I don’t want any trouble.”

“Good,” Madame Hydra said. “Rumlow will bring you a sketchbook. You will draw out what you need and list all of the dimensions and specifications. Then, and only then, will you be allowed to leave this room.”

Tony scowled down at his injured hand. “Great,” he said.

“Do you have a problem with that?” Rumlow said, tugging on Tony’s ear again.

Tony winced. “No – but my hands might make this take a lot longer than it should,” he said. He wasn’t planning on rushing – not with his hands in the condition they were in. If Madame Hydra wanted her gun fixed, she’d have to wait for it. He wasn’t being stubborn or stupid – he was being realistic. If he kept pushing himself he’d probably lose use of his hand for the rest of the day if not longer.

“If you aren’t finished drawing everything in three hours,” Madame Hydra drawled, her voice crackling through the speakers, “Rumlow will be allowed to do whatever he wants to you short of killing you.”

Tony stiffened. So much for letting his hand rest a little.

Rumlow smirked and let go of Tony’s ear. “I guess I’ll go get some paper and a pencil,” he said. He tapped his index finger on his lower lip. “I wonder where I left everything. It might take me a while to find it all.”

Tony put his good hand on Bucky to keep the cat from lunging at Rumlow.

“That’s cute. Keep your attack cat calm, Stark. I don’t want to break him all over again.” Rumlow laughed and left the room.

 

 

Tony was sweating. He clutched his pencil tightly as he sketched out the second to last part that needed to be recreated. His arms ached; his hand felt like it was one step away from becoming a clawed husk. He flipped the page over, satisfied that the specs had been written out correctly and moved on to the last piece. He only had half of the original part to work with this time, but thankfully he’d been working with similarly destroyed pieces for years and he could tell what needed to be there – not that he wanted it to work properly. Having the transmogrification gun operational would mean condemning Bucky to the Chair and he couldn’t do that. He toyed with the idea of making the gun work incorrectly and threw the idea away. He couldn’t risk Bucky getting hurt by a failed attempt and while the Chair might be waiting in the future, there was the always the possibility, slim as it might be, that they would be rescued. It would be better to have a human Bucky around – even if the guy did have two broken legs and only one arm.

“Five more seconds, Stark,” Rumlow said, his voice sing-song.

Tony finished the last line, scribbled the exact dimensions and set his pencil down. “Done.”

Rumlow cocked an eyebrow. “ _Impressive_. You pulled that off in two hours!” he said.

Tony’s left eye began twitching. It had only been _two_ hours? _Son of a bitch_!

Rumlow picked up the sketchbook and patted Tony on the shoulder; he shoved Bucky into Tony’s stomach when the cat tried to nip his hand, and laughed. “You two are _priceless_.”

Tony clamped his mouth shut and forced himself to stay quiet. Telling Rumlow just how much of a sick piece of shit he was wouldn’t be worth the beating. He could wait until he had the armor under his power again. He stroked Bucky’s fur over and over again as Rumlow strolled over to the door and then remembered, aghast, that he wasn’t petting a cat – he was petting _Bucky Barnes_. “Sorry,” Tony mumbled, his cheeks heating up.

Bucky leaned against Tony’s stomach and pushed his back into Tony’s hand.

“You don’t mind?” Tony asked.

Bucky shook his head and closed his eyes.

Tony stroked Bucky’s back again. He glanced over his shoulder as Rumlow reached the door, wanting to watch the bastard, fearing that pages from the sketchbook might _magically_ disappear if he didn’t keep an eye on him.

The door opened on its own.

Rumlow frowned. There wasn’t any time for him to move. A split second later, he was lying on the floor clutching his groin as a shock baton was jammed into him.

“How do you like _them_ apples you fucking _asshole_?” Pepper roared, clutching the shock baton tightly. When the baton powered down to prepare for a new discharge, Pepper kicked Rumlow in the groin again and again and again, making each hit count. She towered over Rumlow’s unconscious form when she was finished, panting and glaring down at him and then jabbed the shock baton into Rumlow’s stomach again for good measure. His body twitched and flailed limply until the baton’s blast ended.

Tony gaped at Pepper.

Bucky stared at Pepper wide-eyed, his fur standing on end.

“Hello, boys,” Pepper drawled. She was dressed in a pair of grey sweat pants and a grey shirt, and had a coil of black nylon rope hanging over her shoulder. She wasn’t wearing shoes, but she didn’t seem bothered by the cold. She pushed Rumlow out of her way with her foot and hurried over to them, tucking the shock baton under her arm. “Are you alright?” she said, cupping Tony’s face in her hand. “That fucking bastard did this, didn’t he?”

“You’re _here_ ,” Tony said, grinning madly. “Pepper, have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“All the time,” Pepper said with a laugh. She pressed a kiss to Tony’s forehead. “I was worried I wouldn’t get to you in time. Madame Hydra took off as soon as one of her guards reported that Captain Rogers and the Avengers were spotted heading for the base – Rhodey and I thought she’d come down here to try and do something to you, but I guess she had other priorities.”

“Rhodey’s ok?” Tony asked. “She told me she’d have Rumlow hurt you guys if I screwed around.”

“He’s fine. He’s looking for Melody and Hammer,” Pepper said. “He told me to tell you that once he was done he was going to spend some time going after all the Hydra goons around. He’s been itching to punch someone in the face ever since he got here.”

“How’d you get out of your cell?” Tony asked, standing up. He clutched Bucky to his chest with his good hand and used his injured one to brace the cat so Bucky wasn’t dangling above the floor. He grimaced and adjusted Bucky’s weight.

“Natasha’s been teaching me how to pick locks,” Pepper said, smiling slyly. “Let’s just say they left me with far too many bobby pins.”

Tony let out a barked laugh. “You’re _kidding_ ,” he said. “They left you with _tools_?”

“Apparently I don’t look like trouble,” Pepper said, batting her eyelashes.

“I bet they’re kicking themselves now,” Tony said.

Pepper grinned widely. “I spent the first few days complaining about all the meetings I was missing and how I wasn’t sure our investors were going to be able to forgive us being gone for so long.”

Tony burst out laughing.

“I think they got tired of listening to me complain about how much I blamed _you_ for getting us into this mess,” Pepper said. She scowled and clenched her free hand into a tight fist. “Madame Hydra sent Rumlow in once to see if he could get information out of me. That bastard set up video feeds in my cell so I could see what he was doing to you. I think he thought he could trick me into giving him information somehow.”

Tony winced. “Shit,” he said. It had been tough to live through Rumlow’s behavior – he couldn’t imagine just how horrible it would have been to watch everything with no way of helping.

“I was mad at first,” Pepper admitted, “But then I realized how good a distraction it was – for Rumlow. And at least I could tell that you are alive and well, even if I couldn’t help you.”

“How much did you see?” Tony asked.

“He only showed me video from when you were here, in this room,” Pepper said. “That’s how I knew where to find you. They kept Rhodey in a cell three hallways away from me – he was trickier to get out. They had a guard at his door. I had to tackle him from behind and smack his head against the wall. That’s how I got the shock baton and rope.” She sighed and looked down at her hands. “I don’t like hurting people, but a part of me liked watching him drop like a rock.”

“You must have taken him out pretty fast,” Tony said, smiling softly. “I don’t see a scratch on you.”

Pepper shrugged. “Natasha’s a good teacher,” she said.

“She’s probably a better hand-to-hand fighter than Steve,” Tony said.

Pepper beamed. “She’ll be happy to hear you said that,” she said. She looked over at Rumlow and scowled. “We should probably tie him up before he wakes up.” She put the shock baton and rope down on the table and rubbed her hands together. “I don’t normally tie people up, but I think I’m going to enjoy this.”

“Same here,” Tony said. He set Bucky down on his chair and followed Pepper over to Rumlow.

Pepper grabbed Rumlow’s left leg and motioned for Tony to grab the right; together, they dragged Rumlow into the middle of the room, his prone body sliding easily through the dust. Pepper retrieved the rope from the table and knelt down beside Rumlow, pursing her lips. She rolled him over onto his belly. “Hold his arm back – let’s hog tie him.”

Tony grinned and grabbed Rumlow’s left arm. He held it out so Pepper could loop rope around Rumlow’s wrists. “So how’d you find Rhodey? Trial and error?” he asked.

“I convinced them I was a fantastic cook and that I’d love to do something other than pace back and forth in my cell,” Pepper said. “I hope you like all the weird food I made you.”

Tony chuckled. “That was you?”

“Some of it was premade. They didn’t have a lot to work with. I’m guessing being an evil organization on SHIELD’s shit-list makes it hard to get good funding,” Pepper said. “It worked out though, crappy food and all. They were fine with letting me walk the halls to hand the trays off to Rumlow when I was finished putting them together. He didn’t let me walk all the way with him, but I managed to see the route and checked doors as I went.” She tied Rumlow’s other arm to his leg and then picked up his other arm, tying it tightly to Rumlow’s other leg. “Do you think this is tight enough?”

“You’ve still got a bit of rope,” Tony said. “I’d say give him another loop or two.”

“Good idea,” Pepper said.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway sent Pepper and Tony scrambling for the Bucky and the shock baton respectively. They huddled together behind the stack of cardboard boxes, staying as still as possible.

“Tony? Pepper?” someone familiar whispered.

Tony poked his head out from around the boxes. It was Rhodey. He sagged in relief. “Hey! Rhodey!”

Rhodey hurried over to them, looking hassled. He pulled Tony into a bear hug, nearly crushing Bucky in between them. “Thank _fuck_ ,” he said, his fingers tangling in Tony’s hair. He held Tony close and pulled back to turn and pull Pepper into an equally crushing bear hug. “I thought I’d lost you both when I saw all that blood out there.”

“We’re alright,” Tony said, adjusting Bucky so the cat was more comfortable.

“It’s Hammer’s blood, isn’t it,” Rhodey said, letting Pepper go. He shook his head. “I found him in a cell on the other side of this hellhole – he’s alive, but Melody’s the only thing keeping him that way.”

“Any sign of Madame Hydra?” Tony asked.

“Nope,” Rhodey said. “She’s gone and I haven’t seen any sign of the Avengers yet either.” He glanced over at the open door. “We should get moving – now.”

“Right,” Tony said. He hurried over to the transmogrification gun and parts set out on the table and put Bucky down; he dumped everything he had worked on into the box, counting parts to make sure he had it all and then scooped up his tools and put those in the box too. “Someone grab the sketchbook,” he said, waving a hand towards where it had landed when Rumlow had gone into the floor. “I don’t want anyone getting their hands on this.”

“What is it?” Rhodey asked as he retrieved the sketchbook. He handed it over to Tony, and moved to pick Bucky up.

“It’s the device that turned –” Tony started. He was cut off when the lights flickered and turned off. Scowling, he handed Rhodey the box. “I’ll explain later,” he said, picking Bucky up. “Right now, we have one goal.”

“Aside from getting the fuck out of here?” Rhodey said.

“We have to destroy the Chair,” Pepper said. She slapped the shock baton against her palm. “We can’t let anyone use it – even if it _was_ repaired by Hammer.”

“And we can’t let them keep the parts,” Tony said, grimly. “I just hope they didn’t have the blueprints saved on a harddrive somewhere.”

“They have a _functional_ Chair?” Rhodey said, aghast. “How the fuck are we supposed to find _that_ in the dark?”

“Well,” Pepper said, “It won’t take long.” She grabbed Rhodey by the hem of his shirt and tugged him towards the door. “I walk past the fucking thing every time I go to the kitchen.”

 

 

 

Tony stumbled along in the dark, following Pepper and Rhodey. His night vision had kicked in, but that didn’t mean he could navigate any better than he had before the lights went out; he had only seen the main hallway that led to the room with the red door, and Rumlow, while being a massive jackass, hadn’t spent any time parading him around unnecessary hallways for everyone to see. Madame Hydra had probably been pressed for time even if she had pretended they had all the time in the world; Rumlow had made the trips embarrassing, cold and brief.

Pepper stopped them at a doorway and hesitated, looking to the hallway on her left.

“What’s wrong?” Rhodey said, lifting the box of gun parts up higher so his fingers wouldn’t slide against the cardboard.

“I thought I heard something,” Pepper said. She motioned for Tony and Rhodey to move against the wall and peeked around the corner. She watched for a few seconds and then pulled her head back.

“Anything?” Tony whispered.

“Nothing,” Pepper said. “But I think I can see the Chair from here.”

“What do we do?” Tony muttered. “They’re not going to just leave that unattended.”

“You’d think we’d have seen the guards by now,” Pepper said, frowning.

“Maybe they ran – if they’ve got blueprints, they don’t need the working prototype,” Rhodey said.

“Then why have anyone build the thing in a hurry?” Tony said. He shook his head and hugged Bucky tighter. “Madame Hydra seemed pretty sure she was going to use it.”

Rhodey slipped past Pepper and peeked around the corner.

“Anything?” Pepper asked, clutching the shock baton tightly.

“Nothing,” Rhodey said. “It’s still empty.”

“Do we move then?” Tony asked.

“We move,” Rhdoey said with a nod. “Now.”

Pepper, Rhodey and Tony hurried down the hallway. Sure enough, sitting in an alcove was the Chair and across from it was the machine that operated it. The Chair looked a little bit like it had been stolen from a dentist’s office; it was sturdy, padded with black leather cushions and had arm rests with clamps attached to them – clamps Tony had recognized. It was an old model, older than the pictures SHIELD had taken of the one they had pulled out of Hydra’s grasp after the Winter Soldier’s subsequent appearance and disappearance. This was a prototype – perhaps even the _original_ Chair.

Tony let out a long, slow breath through his nose. If he had had a wrench he would have taken a run at the Chair and tried to single-handily beat it into a pile of scrap metal.

Rhodey set the cardboard box down and held out his hands. “Give me the cat,” he said. “Go ahead – destroy it. Do your thing, Iron Man.”

Tony handed Bucky over and pulled the tools from the cardboard box. His injured hand was shaking, but his good hand was steady. He turned and glared at the chair. “This might take a while,” he warned them.

“We’ll keep guard,” Pepper said. “Do what you need to do.”

The work was tough; Hammer – or whoever it was that had done the first assembly – had done a good job tightening the bolts and it took a long time to loosen them and pull them free. With the actual chair disassembled, Tony took apart the machine that operated the Chair, peeling the metal paneling apart to get at the machine’s insides. He snipped every wire he could get at with the pair of wire-cutters he had been given by Rumlow and took pleasure in ripping out the knob-and-tube electrical system. Nothing was plugged in yet, and it was completely harmless. Somehow, in Madame Hydra’s infinite wisdom, she had neglected to get Hammer to install a plug to secure it to the outlet behind it.

Bucky huddled against Rhodey’s chest, watching Tony work. The cat looked like he was trying to decide whether he should be terrified or pleased.

Pepper peered down the hallway past the chair, the shock baton held at the ready. “Is it just me, or do you hear footsteps?”

Rhodey froze. “It’s not just you,” he said.

Tony looked up from the Chair, his face smeared with grease. No! They couldn’t be interrupted now – he still had more of the Chair to destroy!

Pepper cocked her head to the side and then let out a gleeful gasp; she bolted, running down the hallway towards the footsteps.

Rhodey and Tony yelled Pepper’s name in unison, terrified.

Had Pepper lost her mind?

Had Hydra developed mind control somehow?

Natasha and Steve came thundering around the corner. Steve lifted his shield to attack and found himself hip-checked into the wall by Natasha, who dove for Pepper and swept her up in her arms, spinning her around.

Tony and Rhodey collapsed against the wall beside them and exchanged relieved looks.

“Ms. Potts?” Steve said, pushing himself away from the wall he had been knocked into.

Natasha pulled Pepper into a tight hug and kissed her.

Steve flushed and smiled, looking away. He jogged down the hallway over to Tony and Rhodey. “There you are! We were getting worried.”

“I see Captain America is fashionably late as usual,” Tony grunted, turning back to the Chair. He tore into the machine again, refusing to let the distraction keep him from his task. The Chair needed to be destroyed. If he had a repulsor, he’d have melted the thing into sludge but chopping the Chair’s innards apart with the wire cutters would have to do for now. If the Avengers were here, that meant they would have a Quinjet, and they’d be able to haul it away to destroy at their leisure, but that didn’t mean he wanted to leave it semi-operational in the meantime. Grunting, he yanked out the control console’s motherboards and tossed them into the box with the transmogrification gun’s parts.

“You four weren’t easy to find,” Steve said. “Natasha and I were worried Hydra had evacuated you to another base when we couldn’t find you in any of the cells.” He cleared his throat and glanced over at Tony. “Where’s Bucky?”

“Rhodey’s got him,” Tony said, his voice muffled.

Steve turned to Rhodey; his smile turned into a scowl when he caught sight of Bucky’s splinted leg. “What happened to your other leg? Jeeze – I can’t leave you alone. You always get yourself into trouble.”

Bucky snorted and looked unimpressed. He shrugged.

Rhodey frowned. “Uh, am I _missing_ something here? You do know cats can’t understand people-speak, right?”

“Go ahead, Cap,” Tony drawled, trying and failing not to sound as bitter as he felt. “Explain it to them.”

Pepper turned in Natasha’s grasp to look at Steve, frowning. “What’s going on?”

Steve’s shoulders slumped. “Look – I think there’s been a big misunderstanding.”

“What misunderstanding?” Rhodey said.

“Bucky’s not my _cat_ – he just looks like one right now. There was an accident in one of the Hydra bases Natasha and I tracked him to – Bucky was shot pushing me out of the way,” Steve said. He rested his shield against his leg and rubbed his face with his gloved hands. “The liquid that hit him caused him to change into a cat – one second he was standing in front of me covered in slime and the next he was a cat trapped in a pile of clothing.” He shifted in place. “I reacted without thinking. I hit the guy holding the gun and it went flying. I couldn’t find it after.”

“You’re damn lucky you didn’t knock it back into that goon’s hands,” Natasha muttered.

Steve smiled sheepishly. “There wasn’t much we could do after that. We knew that if we followed Hydra we’d find the cure somehow.”

“What happened to his arm, by the way?” Tony called out, sticking his head in the control console again.

“It’s in the Quinjet. I kept it with me in case we managed to get him changed back quickly,” Steve said.

Rhodey and Pepper exchanged murderous looks.

Tony smirked. He was glad he wasn’t in those patriotic boots right about now. He almost felt bad for Steve; the guy was going to get his ass handed to him in surround sound.

“You’re telling us that you handed _Bucky Barnes_ – the _real_ Bucky Barnes – The Winter Soldier – over to Tony in a _cat carrier_ and you didn’t think to tell him what was going on?” Pepper said with a growl.

“You didn’t think to _call_ Tony and maybe ask him for help in the search?” Rhodey said, his voice soft and deadly.

“We thought we had everything under control,” Steve said, holding up his hands. “I should have told you, and I’m sorry I didn’t stick around to explain everything that first day, but we were in a rush and I couldn’t risk letting Madame Hydra slip away.”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Pepper roared, her hands settling on her hips. “You owe us all an apology!”

Natasha winced. “I told you they’d be angry,” she said to Steve.

Steve picked up his shield; he looked like he was thinking about hiding behind it. “I know! I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!”

Tony was impressed. He hadn’t ever heard Steve sound so terrified before.

Pepper turned, leveling her gaze on Natasha. “And _you_ ,” she said. “You could have texted – you could have told me!”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Natasha said, softly. “We were out of cell reception half the time, and every time we got back into town we were called back out again. I don’t think I’ve slept properly in weeks. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Good!” Rhodey said. “You _assholes_ should suffer! We’ve been cooing and petting Barnes like he’s a fucking animal!” He looked down at Bucky, suddenly horrified. “Shit – _shit_. I should put you down or something, shouldn’t I? You can’t exactly tell me no – aww man, this is so fucked up!”

Tony snorted. “You know what’s fucked up? We had the poor guy shitting in a fucking _box_ and we gave him pills,” he said. He shuddered. “We _pilled_ the Winter Soldier.”

Pepper and Rhodey cringed.

“Oh god – the _litterbox_ ,” Pepper said. “I forgot about the litter box.”

“We dressed him up in children’s clothing too,” Rhodey said, his voice shrill. “Sweet mother of crap – we dressed the Winter Soldier up in _children’s_ clothing.”

“No wonder he was always so _grumpy_ ,” Pepper said. She looked like she was about to faint; she swayed on her feet. “We had him in the cone of shame! Oh god – Tony. We took him to the vet!”

“I know,” Tony said, speaking to himself as well as Pepper and Rhodey. He grunted and stood up. He wiped his hands on his sweatpants and put his tools back into the cardboard box. “But we’re not the only ones who have something to apologize for. Bucky’s going to be in big shit when we get home too. He’s not excused from this _clusterfuck_.”

Pepper turned to Bucky, still swaying, peering down at the cat.

“Bucky didn’t tell us either,” Tony said, rubbing a hand over his face. “and he damn well could have.”

“How did you find out?” Rhodey asked, holding Bucky out in front of him like he was a football.

Tony sighed and took Bucky from Rhodey, tucking the cat against his chest. “You know who told me?”

“Rumlow?” Pepper said, her eyes widening. “Oh, Tony.”

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Brock Fucking Rumlow told me.”

“Wait. You knew and you didn’t tell us?” Pepper said, squinting at Tony.

“I tried and then the lights shut off,” Tony said. “I wasn’t so sure you’d want to know while we were running for our lives. I’m sorry – I should have said something too.”

Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose. “I think we need to have this conversation when we’re all able to talk,” she said, eyeballing Bucky.

“Exactly,” Rhodey said. He picked up Tony’s box and held on tightly, as though afraid someone might try and trade him for Bucky again. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

“Where’s the rest of the team?” Tony asked.

“They’re scouting the area for stragglers,” Steve said. “We found Hammer and your veterinarian friend first. They’ve both been escorted the Quinjet for transport.”

“Great,” Tony said.

“Let’s get moving then,” Steve said. He straightened up, the shield on his arm, and nodded to Tony, once more becoming the Captain America Tony was used to following into battle. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

“Quick question,” Rhodey said as they followed Steve down the hallway back the way Steve and Natasha had come from. “Where the fuck are we?”

“Madripoor,” Natasha said. “We’re underwater in a base beneath the island itself. It took forever to find you because the base they have you stashed in protected by the city jammers above and its own tech below. They’ve been bringing supplies in by submarine – that’s how we figured out where you’d ended up. Rumlow’s obsessive love of bubble waffles made it easy to find someone who’d seen him in town. Apparently he made quite a few trips up to the surface on his own. I don’t know if Madame Hydra knew about it, but she sure as hell didn’t go up and chase him.” She shifted her path so she was walking beside Pepper and reached out hesitantly.

Pepper pulled Natasha’s arm around her waist. “You’re going to have to make it up to me,” she said primly.

Natasha grinned. “I think I can manage something.”

Tony groaned and turned to Rhodey. “They’re going to _keep_ being disgustingly cute, aren’t they?”

“God I hope so,” Rhodey said with a laugh.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff will be ahead! (After some arguing!) Thanks for reading! :D Let me know if you spot anything weird and I'll fix it!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony was glad to be home - he just wished things weren't so awkward.

They walked until they reached a pair of thick steel doors, guarded by Natasha and Steve. Tony recognized a pressurized hatch and knew at once that they had made it to the submarine dock. He hated that he hadn’t realized they were underwater. It made his skin crawl knowing that he had been surrounded by water for so long – surrounded and _contained_ by it. This was an old facility; they could have _drowned_ a thousand times over by now. One faulty hatch and there would have been nothing to stop the water from claiming them. Madame Hydra was either brilliant or insane to pick a place like this – he wasn’t sure which.

Steve yanked the pressurized door open with one hand, making it look supremely easy, and let them inside. Natasha guarded them from behind, letting Steve lead the way.

The ground was colder here, and Tony could feel it bleeding through what was left of the warmth accumulated in his toes. Even Pepper was shivering now. The water was eerily green where they could see it, filled with gunk that may or may not have been toxic waste.

“I really wish I had _shoes_ ,” Pepper said, eyeing the way a head. The submarine bay was cluttered with wooden crates and broken, rusting, equipment. There were stacks of barrels leaking oil all along the path they were traveling, and while the slick cement was free from physical debris it looked distinctly unclean. The best part of the entire cluttered mess was the Quinjet sitting beside a decrepit submarine, waiting for them.

“Oh good,” Natasha said. “Clint’s back.”

Tony hurried over to the Quinjet, surrounded by his friends, hugging Bucky tightly to his chest. Soon they would be warm – very, very soon.

“Almost there,” Steve said. He scanned the dock ever few steps, still on high alert and tapped his earpiece. “Clint? We’re here. Open the Quinjet doors.”

“Roger that, Rogers,” Clint said, stepping out from behind the pile of broken wooden crates.

Tony slid across the slick concrete with a squawk; Pepper grabbed Rhodey to keep from barreling into Tony’s back. They glared at Clint, furious that they had been spooked, huddled together.

“Sorry,” Clint said, wincing. “I was keeping an eye on things from out here – it was getting pretty crowded in the Quinjet.”

“I thought I told you to stay inside,” Steve said, sounding irritated.

“I didn’t want to use any of the Quinjet’s weapons with all this crap around,” Clint said with a shrug. “No offence Cap, but I’d rather not blow you guys up by accidentally hitting that sludge they call water.”

“Like you’d miss,” Steve chuckled.

Tony scowled. “And you didn’t think to tell us where you were before?”

“In my defence,” Clint said with a wink, “I was heading over to say hello before you came _rudely_ running at me.”

Natasha snorted. “Idiot.”

“What?” Clint said, feigning innocence. “I can be _polite_.”

“Open the damn doors, birdbrain,” Tony grunted through chattering teeth.

Clint smiled. “Good to see you too, Tony.” He snapped his fingers and the Quinjet’s hanger doors opened, revealing a startled looking Melody tending to a battered and unconscious, heavily bandaged, gurney-bound Justin Hammer. Bruce stood beside her, looking at his tablet, frowning down at what he saw.

Steve ushered everyone into the Quinjet and slammed his fist against the button that closed the hanger doors. If Tony had been more energetic he would have given Steve shit about beating on the technology, but once he had collapsed into the cushioned leather seats lining the Quinjet’s interior, he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything other than his friends and his aching body. He tucked Bucky against his chest and pulled an emergency blanket out from under the seat beside him with his free hand. He fluffed the blanket up, putting it down on the seat with one hand and settled Bucky on the mound, carefully positioning the cat’s broken legs so they weren’t under any stress. Bucky looked up at him, confused but apparently delighted by the soft place to sit. Within minutes the cat was asleep, snoring away.

“He looks so cute,” Pepper said, smiling softly down at Bucky.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was a real cat,” Rhodey said with a sigh.

“I know,” Tony said. “It’s so weird.”

“You’re safe now,” Steve said, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “You three should try and get some rest.”

Tony grimaced. The last thing he wanted to do right now was fall asleep – at least, not yet. “I’m taking a shower,” he said. He held up his hand when Pepper opened her mouth to argue with him. “I smell like a mixture of sweaty ass and blood and no one needs to be subjected to that for any longer than necessary,” he said. “You and Rhodey can use the shower after I’m done de-oozing.”

Steve frowned. “That’s an _emergency_ shower, Tony,” he said.

“And my sweaty _ass_ is an _emergency_ ,” Tony said, glaring at Steve.

Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, letting his hand drop from Tony’s shoulder. “Fine. But make it quick,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Are you expecting to need the shower for some kind of strange contamination disaster?” Pepper said, glaring at Steve as she took a seat beside Bucky.

Tony hesitated, positioning himself by the emergency shower door, unsure whether he should leave or attempt to mediate.

Rhodey sat down beside Pepper and wrapped his arm around her back. “Don’t bother trying to reason with him. He’s _Captain America_ ,” he said. “Only people he _likes_ get to know his plans.”

Steve flushed. “ _Hey_ ,” he said, bristling. “That’s not what happened!”

“Oh I’m sorry – where’s the lie?” Pepper said, cocking her head to the side. “You went off half-cocked and left _us_ to take care of things without telling us what we were getting into – why should believe you’re going to let us in on the plan now?”

Bruce grimaced and moved closer to Pepper and Rhodey, fidgeting with his tablet. “She’s right, Steve,” he said. “I don’t want to get into a fight with you – because we all know how that’ll end – but maybe you should cut them some slack. They’ve had a rough time.”

Steve sighed and leaned his hip against the seat beside him. “Look – I’m sorry about that, alright? Like I said earlier, when we get back to the Tower we can have a real conversation about what’s happened. Let’s just focus on the task at hand – we still need to get the Chair’s remains back to the Quinjet, and we need to figure out where Hydra’s been keeping their research. Natasha,” he said, “Let’s head out and go get that intel before someone tries to destroy it.” Steve turned to Clint. “Did you find their chemical production room?”

Clint nodded. “I’ve got everything already packed up and on the Quinjet. I had a feeling you didn’t want to take any chances after Madame Hydra vanished.”

“She’s _gone_?” Tony said with a growl. “You’re absolutely sure?”

Steve swore and clenched his hand around the strap of his shield. “I thought you said we had her!”

“Sorry Cap. That was a decoy – some kind of robot I’ve never seen before. She blew this popsicle stand a _long_ time ago,” Clint said. He turned to Tony. “And before you ask, the robot is wrapped up and waiting for you to pick at it.”

“Good,” Tony said.

“Jarvis already has scans of it,” Bruce said. “Don’t worry about it right now.”

“Fine,” Tony said with a grunt, “So where’s Madame Hydra headed? Any ideas? Or are we flying blind as usual?”

“There’s security footage of her taking what I’m assuming is her private sub out and leaving a good _hour_ before we showed up to knock on the door. She didn’t seem too interested in letting anyone else know about her impromptu escape, which makes me think _someone_ tipped her off,” Clint said.

“You think she’s got someone in SHIELD?” Rhodey asked.

“We _know_ she does,” Clint said. “That colour changing alien chick is gone. She was under watch and then bam! She vanished the same time Madame Hydra slipped away.” He shook his head sadly. “It’s starting to look like SHIELD’s going to have to do another big sweep.”

Tony scrubbed his hands over his face and sighed. “Alright,” he said. “No more bad news – I’m going to take my shower and when I come back out, I’m going to sit down and eat some shitty protein bars before I pass out.”

Pepper yawned into her arm and leaned back against her seat. “Let me know when you find them. I’m _starving_.”

“Same here,” Rhodey grumbled, curling in his seat so his feet weren’t touching the floor.

 

 

Tony stepped out from the emergency shower feeling refreshed; cleaning himself up had been a long, slow, job and his hands needed to be bandaged again now that he was done. The yellow dish soap he kept stocked in the emergency shower stall had gotten rid of the worst of the grime and all of the grease but it made him want to sneeze and smelled a little too strongly of plastic and lemons for his liking. Shivering, he dried himself off with the sorry excuse for a towel he found hanging from the shower stall door and wrapped the damp towel around his waist. He stepped out into the quiet of the Quinjet and looked around to see if he could find the stash of clothing he had left squirreled away here a few weeks ago. He found his pile of spare clothes and retreated to the corner of the room to pull them on, glad to have even a moderate amount of privacy.

Pepper got up as Tony sat down beside Bucky. “Did Natasha stash any clothes here?” she asked.

“I’ll find them for you,” Tony said. He handed her the damp towel. “It’s a little wet,” he said.

Pepper wrinkled her nose and flicked Tony in the ear. “Gee, _thanks_ ,” she said, disappearing into the shower stall.

Tony stood up with a pained grunt and began to search for Natasha’s bundle of clothing; the task was draining, more so than he had expected and he could feel his body protesting his every move. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Clint, Steve and Natasha had vanished, leaving only Bruce behind. “I see the gang wandered off,” he said, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he fished a pile of baggy black sweat pants and a sweat shirt out from under a parachute. He carried the bundle over to his seat and sat down, cradling it on his lap.

“Clint’s gone to go bring in Rumlow,” Bruce said, still staring down at his tablet.

“Ah, right,” Tony said. “We don’t want _him_ escaping too.”

“No we do not,” Rhodey said. His eyes were closed, and he looked like he was annoyed by the sudden conversation.

“ _Napping_ , Rhodey-bear?” Tony asked, sweetly.

“Attempting to,” Rhodey said. “Shut up and let me sleep, jerk.”

Tony chuckled and let himself drift backwards into his seat. He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath as time caught up with him. He dozed for a moment, his head jerking backwards as he blinked awake. He looked down at his hands. They were stiff and the bandages felt uncomfortably tight. He heard someone shuffling towards him and forced himself to keep an eye open so he could see who it was.

“Tony?” Bruce sat down in the seat beside Tony. There was a first aid kit balanced on his knee, one that had already been cannibalized for Hammer’s treatment if the blood smeared on the plastic case was anything to go by.

Tony lifted his injured hand up. “Work your magic, doc,” he said.

Bruce cocked an eyebrow. “You’re not going to fight me?”

“My hand is killing me,” Tony said. “And I have no idea when Extremis will come back online and start healing the damage. Feel free to do whatever you want until then – and if you could give me a couple of painkillers – the baby stuff, not the heavy duty shit – I’ll owe you a new pair of stretchy pants. I mean, I was already planning on building you some, but this way I’ll feel like I’m doing you a favor.”

Bruce chuckled and picked up Tony’s hand. “Ok, Tony. Whatever you say.”

 

 

Tony wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but when he woke up, he found himself being glared at by a handcuffed and still fully hogtied Rumlow. He couldn’t help the distressed snort he let out; he shimmied backwards until his back was fully pressed up against the seat and let out a hissed breath as his body protested the sudden movement.

“He’s not going to be a problem,” Natasha said from Tony’s left.

Tony jumped and slapped hand over his arc reactor. “Sweet mother of _fuck_ – don’t do that!”

“Sorry,” Natasha said. She patted Tony on the head and looped her other arm around a dozing Pepper, standing with her back to Rumlow. “We’ll be handing him off to SHIELD agents when we reach the rendezvous point, so don’t worry. He’s not going to be with us for long.”

“Are we airborne?” Tony asked.

“Yes,” Natasha said. “We left as soon as the SHIELD recovery squad landed.”

“I thought we said SHIELD had a _leak_ ,” Tony said, pursing his lips.

“We did,” Natasha said. “Rumlow’s not going to a SHIELD base. He’s going directly to the Raft where Fury can personally supervise his interrogation – and all the Hydra tech we’ve confiscated is staying with us until further notice.”

Tony rolled his shoulders and tried to get comfortable again; he turned away from Rumlow, not wanting to make eye contact with the bastard even by accident.

“I can throw a blanket over Rumlow if you want,” Clint offered through the cockpit’s speaker system. “I was all for throwing a bag over his head but everyone else was all oh _no_ , he might suffocate and die a horrible death before telling us everything he knows.”

Tony chuckled grimly. “He seems to be behaving himself aside from all the death glares he’s throwing my way,” he said. “It’s a little creepy.”

Thor stepped into view, exiting the cockpit; he closed the door behind him. “I believe I can offer a solution that will neither cripple nor kill our captive.” He grabbed Rumlow by the head and spun him around so he was facing the other way; he set Mjolnir delicately on Rumlow’s back, ensuring that there would be no escape in Rumlow’s future. He smiled broadly at Tony. “I am glad to see that you and your friends are safe, Tony.”

“Good to see you too, big guy,” Tony said, stretching. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes, spotting something on the edge of his vision. It was an email icon – but that couldn’t be right. Extremis was still down – wasn’t it? When the email icon didn’t disappear he realized that it wasn’t an optical illusion – it _was_ Extremis coming back online. He wiggled his fingers and tore at the bandages Bruce had so thoughtfully wound around his hands. He grinned at Thor and balled the bandages up, tucking them into his pocket.

“I see Extremis is up and running again,” Bruce said, glancing up from his tablet. He was slightly green behind the ears, and seemed to be grinding his teeth.

“Oh yeah,” Tony said, stretching out. His injured fingers itched like a _motherfucker_ , but he knew there was nothing to be done about it; the muscles and bones were knitting together again, and with Extremis at the helm, they would be good as new in a few hours. His bruises were almost completely gone and it was a relief to be able to move without causing himself more pain. He curled up again in his seat, finally able to get comfortable, tucked his bare feet beneath him and relaxed, connecting to Jarvis through Extremis. He uploaded the files for the Transmogrification gun – everything he had seen and written converted into code – and gnawed on his lower lip. He knew it would be best to put the gun into production so it could be ready for use when they got back to the Tower, but a part of him worried that the moment Bucky was back to being _human_ , Bucky would become unreachable. Letting out a long, shaky, breath, Tony put the gun into production. It wasn’t his choice to keep Bucky a cat, no matter how much he had enjoyed the guy’s company. He would have to learn how to live with the human version – he might as well start now.

Bucky yawned in the seat beside Tony, still swaddled in his blanket. He shifted his weight and crawled into Tony’s lap, resting his chin on Tony’s knee.

“You ok?” Tony murmured.

Bucky nuzzled his face against Tony’s leg.

Tony smiled sadly. If this was the last cuddle he was going to get from Bucky, then he was going to enjoy it.

 

 

Tony woke with a snort and looked around. He was being carried in a most _undignified_ manner, cradled in Steve’s arms like a sleeping baby. He scowled up at Steve but couldn’t bring himself to move. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice still slurred from sleep.

“I’m carrying you inside,” Steve said with a chuckle.

“But why?” Tony grumbled. He thought about protesting and wiggling out of Steve’s grasp, but Steve was _freakishly_ warm, and the air outside on the Quinjet’s landing pad felt like it was being piped in from the arctic. “Where’s Bucky?” he asked instead of struggling.

“I’ve got him,” Pepper said, appearing from behind Steve’s burly left shoulder. She held Bucky up; he was lying on top of his pile of blankets, sleeping. “Jarvis says the Transmogrification gun is ready for use, by the way,” Pepper said.

“Oh good,” Tony said. His stomach rumbled loudly. Damn. He never had gotten around to eating a protein bar.

“And there’s take-out waiting for us inside,” Rhodey said, appearing from Steve’s other side. “We ordered in – _Captain America’s treat_.”

Tony laughed. He yawned into Steve’s chest, and watched as Melody and Bruce wheeled Hammer’s gurney past them. Melody gave Tony a tired smile as she disappeared inside.

“They’re heading off to SHIELD,” Steve said before Tony could ask. “Fury wants to debrief your vet and chuck Hammer back into a cell before anything else interferes with their plans.”

“I see,” Tony drawled, his eyes mostly closed. He hadn’t wanted Hammer sticking around in the Tower anyways; at least now he didn’t have to outright complain to get the bastard taken away. “And the base they were keeping us in? What’s happening with that?”

“SHIELD’s taken it over and is inspecting it in case we missed anything,” Steve said. “Nothing’s changed since the last time you’ve asked.”

“What about the Chair?” Tony asked.

“I am carrying it for you,” Thor called out from behind Steve. “Jarvis has instructed me where to place it in your workshop – it will not be left unattended. You may destroy it at your leisure.”

“Oh good,” Tony said, closing his eyes. He woke abruptly when Steve set him down on the couch in his penthouse. Looking around, he found that he was alone with Steve and Bucky. The cat was sitting on his blanket pile on the couch beside Tony’s feet, blinking just as sleepily.

“What’s going on? Where is everyone?” Tony asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Natasha and Pepper went to Pepper’s room. Rhodey went to his room and everyone else took their take-out and went to debrief,” Steve said. He cleared his throat and sat down on the arm of the couch beside Tony’s head. “Thank you, Tony.”

“For what?” Tony asked, still groggy. He sat up slowly, bumping against Steve’s leg. “You’re the one who bought the take-out this time.”

“I’m not talking about food,” Steve said. He pulled Tony into a tight hug. “ _Thank you_ for taking care of Bucky.”

Tony froze, unsure of what to do. He settled for patting Steve gently on the back. “It’s fine – I mean, I’m still going to give you shit for not filling me in on what the hell was happening, but it wasn’t like having Bucky around was a _burden_ or something. He’s a good houseguest.”

Steve pulled away, smiling. He looked exhausted; it seemed like now that all the fighting was done, he was finally allowing himself to be a little more Steve and a little less Captain America. “I’m glad things worked out,” Steve said. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Can we put off the talk about all of this until tomorrow? I don’t know about you, but I’d really like to grab something to eat and get some sleep – after changing Bucky back if that gun is ready, of course.”

“Sure,” Tony said. He didn’t really want to talk with Steve yet either. Smalltalk he could do – long, drawn-out discussions would put him to sleep again. He stood up and flexed his toes, glad to be back in his own home and no longer standing on cold cement. He waved a hand at Steve and shuffled off to the elevator. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “Fix me up a plate of whatever’s left, ok? I’m starving.”

“Sure,” Steve said, standing up. He scuttled into the kitchen as though he had been chased there and began sorting through the containers of take-out sitting on the kitchen counter. “I’ll have everything ready by the time you get back.”

 

 

Tony stepped into his workshop, savoring the feeling of being home at long last. He gave Dummy a pat on the head and walked over to the production line at the back of the workshop where the Transmogrification gun sat waiting for use; it was sealed up in a plastic box, just like the rest of the production line, free from dust and debris that might make it work strangely. He took a deep breath as he opened the plastic box’s extraction lid. The air here smelled fresh, free of blood and dust – and Rumlow. He hadn’t realized just how much he had missed his workshop until now. He picked the Transmogrification gun up and pulled it free, closing the plastic lid. Jarvis would make sure everything was sterile before the production line was put into use again; things here worked the way they were supposed to, and nothing here had been made when dinosaurs roamed the earth – well, not nothing. The Chair was sitting beside Tony’s furnace. He couldn’t see it; it was wrapped in a blue tarp, but he knew what it was just by the shape of it. He was going to enjoy taking it apart properly this time.

“Sir?” Jarvis said. “Do you require anything else from the workshop?”

“I’m alright – I’ll be dismantling the Chair tomorrow at some point,” Tony said with a hum. “Any news on the Madame Hydra-Robot Clint shot?”

“Nothing yet, sir,” Jarvis said. “It does however appear similar in make to the robots that appear from Latveria.”

The robot was similar to something made by Doctor Doom? Hm. That was odd – very odd. Doom didn’t work with Hydra – he didn’t approve of their behavior. Madame Hydra must have spent a pretty penny getting her hands on that kind of tech. The person she had bought the robot from was probably dead.

“How’s everything been while I was gone?” Tony asked.

“Extremely tedious,” Jarvis said. “Dummy was unable to find anything to do and spent most of his time in his charger. There was nothing for me to clean up and no work to put into production or monitor.”

“ _Ouch_ ,” Tony said. “Sounds like you had a boring vacation.”

“Indeed, sir,” Jarvis said. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Tony said. He stepped into the elevator; the doors closed automatically and it shot up to the Tower’s penthouse again. “How’s Steve handling the food situation?”

“He appears to be plating you enough food to feed five people,” Jarvis said.

“Oh good,” Tony said with a grin.

 

 

After stuffing himself full of pizza, Chinese food and drinking his weight in water, Tony got up from his chair. “Alright,” he said. “I’m off to bed.”

“You don’t want to help me change Bucky back?” Steve asked. He looked at Tony with what was most likely the world’s most effective puppy dog eyes.

Tony sighed. “Where’s the canister of goop?”

“I put it in the communal bathroom,” Steve said. “I hope you don’t mind – the showers up here are bigger than mine, and I didn’t want Bucky to feel claustrophobic when he changes back. Your floor’s familiar.”

“And you’re hoping that means he won’t try and charge out of here on two broken legs?” Tony asked.

“Exactly,” Steve said. He scooped Bucky and the blanket up off the couch and held the cat carefully against his chest. “I know I’m imposing – I just, I didn’t know any other place he’d feel comfortable.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony said. He wasn’t so sure Steve was right, but if turning back into a human in one of the penthouse’s bathrooms made Bucky happy, that was fine with him. He plucked the Transmogrifying gun off of the counter and followed Steve into the communal bathroom down the hall. “And you’re _sure_ this is exactly what you need to change him back?”

Bucky scowled at Steve and allowed himself to be placed gently on the floor in the shower stall; he stared mournfully at the blanket when it was set on the counter by the sink.

“I’m sure,” Steve said. He handed Tony a glass canister filled with neon green goop.

“Because I can have Jarvis run some tests on it – double check everything,” Tony said.

“We’re sure it works,” Steve said. “Madame Hydra intended to turn Bucky back into a human so she could use him again – Natasha and I intercepted plans shortly after we started hunting her down. She wouldn’t have left poison out – not if she wanted the Winter Soldier to work for her.”

Tony grimaced. Steve was right. Madame Hydra had wanted Bucky for more than just a laugh – she’d intended to use the Chair to get what she wanted and there was no way she was going to kill Bucky accidentally. If she’d wanted to, she would have put a bullet through his brain. Tony clicked the goop canister into place. “Do you want to do the honors? Or should I?”

“You do it,” Steve said, his voice soft. He looked away as Tony took aim.

Tony sighed. “Sorry Bucky,” he said. “This’ll be over fast, I promise.” He targeted the cat and forced himself to watch as the gun went off. A blue spark went through the goop; it sailed through the air and splattered all over Bucky, covering the cat’s fur.

Bucky let out a shrieked meow. He twisted and contorted, his fur vanishing as skin appeared in its place; his cast shattered and the splint on his other leg snapped in half and went flying.

Tony looked away, cringing. When he looked back, there, sitting in the shower stall was a very naked, very goop covered Bucky Barnes. The man was gorgeous, even when injured; he looked up at Tony with wide, warm brown eyes. He seemed at a loss for words. His one, good, arm was covered in purpling bruises. His legs were clearly broken.

“Well this was fun.” Tony unloaded the canister, hands shaking and bolted from the room. He stood just outside, leaning back against the door, his eyes closed. He didn’t have the right to look at Bucky like this – not when the guy was naked and injured. If he had the chance to see Bucky again under different circumstances, then maybe he’d look longer but for now, he was going to do the decent thing and get out of the way before he could open his mouth and make a mess out of things.

“Tony?” Steve called out.

“Yep?” Tony said.

“Why’d you leave?” Steve asked, sounding puzzled.

“I figured Barnes would appreciate me not staring at his goop covered junk,” Tony said. “I’m going to go drop the gun back off in my workshop. I’m sure you’ll be fine carrying him to medical so his legs don’t get any more broken than they already are.”

“Tony,” Bucky said, his voice raspy.

Tony ran for the elevator.

 

 

Panting, Tony hurried into his workshop and threw himself down into his rolling chair. He glided across the floor towards his work desk and set the gun down. Maybe _running_ hadn’t been such a good idea. He didn’t want Bucky to think he’d fled because he was scared of him – but he also didn’t want Bucky to think he was trying to ogle him like he was a piece of meat. The guy had had enough of that happen to him over the years. Oh god – he’d fucked things up without even opening his mouth. Damn it!

“Sir?” Jarvis said. “Captain Rogers is requesting to know when you will return to your penthouse.”

Tony spun in a lazy circle and tossed the gun onto his worktable. “I have no idea,” he said.

Jarvis sighed. “Captain Rogers has informed me that there is paperwork in your office that you should peruse if you have the time.”

Tony scowled. Typical Steve – always pushing paperwork. He rolled his chair back towards the door. “Let me know when they’re done with the elevator and I’ll head up again.”

“Sir?” Jarvis asked. “Are you unhappy with Mr. Barnes’ presence in the Tower?”

“No,” Tony said, aghast. “I’m fine with him being here. Why would you say that?”

“I am merely relaying Mr. Barnes’ question,” Jarvis said.

Tony slumped in his chair. Crap. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. “I’m not avoiding Bucky – I’m just putting the gun away,” he said.

“I will relay the information,” Jarvis said, dryly.

“You don’t believe me,” Tony accused, glaring up at Jarvis’ main camera.

“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Jarvis said. “Captain Rogers and Mr. Barnes have arrived at the Medical bay.”

“Great,” Tony said. He stood up and rolled his chair backwards, sending it across the room. It bumped against Dummy, who beeped at him in surprise. “Sorry buddy!” Tony called out. “Do me a favor – put that away.”

Dummy beeped happily and pushed the chair towards the work table.

Tony got into the elevator and prayed Bucky and Steve weren’t waiting for him upstairs.

 

 

Tony poked his head out of the elevator and looked around.

“The main penthouse floor is unoccupied,” Jarvis said. “Aside from Ms. Potts, Ms. Romanoff and Colonel Rhodes in their respective rooms, there is no one here.”

Tony let out the breath he had been holding and straightened up. “Good,” he said. Knowing that Bucky and Steve weren’t around didn’t make him any less wary of running into someone. He hurried to his office and snuck inside, closing the door behind him, turning the light on with Extremis.

“Sir,” Jarvis said, sounding tired.

“Let me skulk in peace,” Tony said. He dropped himself into the padded chair at his desk and picked up the blue folder lying there, flipping it open. He scanned the text on the pages quickly, using Extremis to digitize and digest the words. Everything here was old news – all of it pointless. He flipped the page. Yep. Still old news. Still pointless. He flipped another page and paused. This was a report taken from SHIELD’s most secure site – a place so hidden, most people didn’t even know it _existed_ , let alone its location. Natasha’s signature was on the report at the very bottom. Alexander Pierce was in SHIELD custody. Tony had thought the guy was running around unseen, not sitting pretty in a cell. Hydra had been spreading rumors about Pierce running off around the globe, and clearly, that was all bullshit. Why hadn’t Natasha said something before? Steve had instructed him to read this particular folder, so Natasha must have told _him_ about it – so that left only one question. Why was Pierce still in SHIELD custody and not six feet under ground? The bastard had committed _treason_ – he had attacked the _world_ , and Fury hadn’t had the guy killed? What the hell was going on?

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

“Yes?” Tony said, flipping to the next page. It, like the others before it, was boring and pointless. Maybe that was how Natasha had smuggled it out in the first place – hiding it with a bunch of garbage to make it look like she hadn’t taken anything of interest.

“Perhaps you should go to sleep,” Jarvis said.

Tony set the folder down. Oh - right. He’d forgotten all about _sleep_. He rubbed his eyes and pushed himself away from his desk. With Extremis functional again, he could easily spend the night reading files, but he didn’t really feel like it – not now that he had a nice, soft bed to sleep in again. Nope. He was _not_ thinking about Alexander Pierce right now – Pierce could wait till tomorrow. Steve and Natasha obviously knew about the guy – _SHIELD_ knew about the guy. The risk was minimal and it wasn’t like he could do anything to change that – at least not right now.

Tony snuck through his penthouse, yawning into his arm and approached his bedroom only once he was sure everyone else was snuggled away in their own beds. The lights were off inside his room and the door was open, just as he’d left it so many days ago. He shuffled over to the bed and threw himself onto the mattress – and promptly landed on something warm and muscular.

Bucky grunted and opened his eyes; he stared at Tony, frowning.

Tony swallowed hard and thought about ducking and rolling his way out of the room. He couldn’t bring himself to do it – not after Bucky’s expression turned nervous, as if he thought he was about to be thrown out of the room. Tony yawned into Bucky’s meaty shoulder and snuggled closer. Bucky was like a furnace, just like Steve, and after spending so many hours freezing, it was a welcome discovery.

Bucky sighed and shifted, pulling the blankets up over them. His head was on the pillow Tony had given him as a cat; his hair flowed around his head in a halo, the brown strands silky and damp. He cleared his throat.

“Don’t,” Tony murmured. “We can talk tomorrow. Tired now.” He wrapped an arm around Bucky’s middle and closed his eyes. “Go to sleep.”

Bucky’s fingers ghosted over Tony’s arm and then returned to the blanket. “Are you sure?”

Tony groaned and squashed his cheek into Bucky’s firm pecs. “Go to _sleep_ ,” he grumbled.

Bucky let out a huffed laugh and closed his eyes. “Alright,” he said. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” Tony said, his words slurred as sleep pulled him in. “If I feel like it.”

 

 

Tony woke up alone, swaddled in blankets. He blinked sleepily up at the ceiling; he could smell pancakes, and his stomach was enthusiastically telling him it was time to get up. Grumbling at his stomach’s need to feed, he rolled his way out of his blankets and staggered upright. “Do I have time to shower?” he asked Jarvis, “Or will the pancakes be gone by the time I get out there?”

“I believe Mr. Barnes intends to feed them to you and only you, sir,” Jarvis said. “The others are still asleep.”

“Oh,” Tony said. He could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck; it was a strange feeling, unfamiliar but pleasant nonetheless. Bucky had made _him_ pancakes? Bucky had gotten up _early_ to make him pancakes. He smiled and slipped into the bathroom, stripping out of his clothes. He closed the door behind him and stepped into the shower. He stood under the hot mist that Jarvis had turned on, letting water soak into his hair and trickle down his body. There was no way he was going out there smelling like dish soap – not when he had good soap, and proper shampoo and conditioner. He scrubbed himself until he was pink and his fingers and toes were wrinkled, enjoying the warm water and the sweet, sweet, privacy.

When he was finished with his shower, he grabbed a towel and scrubbed himself until he was only mostly damp. He lifted the towel up to put it back and saw that there was another towel on his towel rack – one that hadn’t been there before. The litter box was conspicuously absent as well. “Jarvis? Was Bucky in here?” Tony asked.

“Mr. Barnes removed the litter box after he got up to use the facilities. He took a shower before heading out to the kitchen,” Jarvis said. “I believe he regrets the shower.”

Tony frowned. “Why?”

“He is currently covered in pancake batter, sir,” Jarvis said.

Tony snorted and dropped his towel around his feet. He leaned against the door and snickered, shaking his head. Bucky Barnes – _The Winter Soldier_ – covered in pancake batter. This he had to see. He threw the door open, leaving the towel on the floor and ran for his dresser; he dressed in a hurry, barely thinking about what he was putting on and then calmly walked out of his bedroom and into the living room.

Bucky was standing in the kitchen in front of the stove, glaring at the frying pan he was using; his legs were both in casts, although one was a lot thinner than the other, and he had a wheelchair beside him. His hair was splattered with pancake batter, and even from a distance Tony could tell that the poor guy had tried to use the electric hand mixer and it hadn’t ended well. There flour everywhere, and blobs of batter were stuck to the back of Bucky’s shirt and to the empty sleeve on Bucky’s left side.

Tony cleared his throat and walked over to the kitchen counter, cocking his head to the side.

Bucky gnawed on his lip. “Morning,” he said, his voice low and soft.

“Morning,” Tony said. He picked a blob of batter off Bucky’s shoulder – making sure to avoid touching the left just like he had when Bucky was a cat – and tossed it into the trash. “I see you made pancakes.”

“I tried,” Bucky said, staring mournfully down at the pancake browning in the pan. He prodded it with a spatula and leaned heavily against the stove. “It used to be a lot easier to do this.”

Tony smiled softly. “To be fair, my hand mixer is souped up. They’re not all that powerful.”

“It wasn’t the mixer that was the problem,” Bucky grumbled. He turned and glared at his left shoulder and the sleeve where his arm should have been.

Tony bumped Bucky’s right shoulder with his. “They smell good,” he said, nodding to the pancakes stacked on a plate beside the pan.

Bucky smiled shyly. “I guess you’re right,” he said.

“Of course I’m right,” Tony said. “I’m a _genius_. It’s my job to always be right.” He opened up the cupboard and pulled out two plates, setting them on the counter. He debated whether he should comment on the fact that Bucky was standing on two broken legs and let it drop; if Bucky was anything like him, he wouldn’t appreciate hearing it. “Do you want syrup and margarine? Or whipped cream? I think I’ve got some in the fridge I can whip up,” Tony said.

Bucky licked his lips. “Uh, yes to all of that?”

Tony grinned. “Sure. A man after my own heart,” he said with a wink.

Bucky’s cheeks flushed red. He cleared his throat and turned back to the pancakes.

Tony pulled open the fridge and stuck his head inside. He found the whipping cream carton behind the bottle of syrup and pulled them both out. Whistling, he carried everything over to the counter and went up on the tips of his toes so he could grab a mixing bowl. When he turned back, he realized that Bucky was staring at him.

“What?” Tony said, still standing on the tips of his toes, the bowl held above his head.

“Nothing,” Bucky said, looking away quickly.

Tony shrugged and dragged his bowl and ingredients over to an electrical outlet so he could get started. He poured the whipping cream out with a deft hand and then wiggled his fingers. “ _Sugar_ , I need some sugar,” he said.

Bucky turned. “Huh?” His cheeks were pink, and Tony was pretty sure that wasn’t because Bucky was standing in front of the hot stove. That was very, very _interesting_.

“ _Icing_ sugar,” Tony said, waggling his eyebrows. “What?”

Bucky cleared his throat and turned back to the frying pan again.

“So how’s your morning going?” Tony asked, fishing the bag of icing sugar out from the cupboard beside Bucky, “I thought Rogers would be up here hovering over you.”

Bucky shrugged. “I told him to go take a run,” he said.

“Ah,” Tony said, dumping a good helping of icing sugar into the whipping cream. “Right. I forgot. He’s got that strange need of his to work out all the damn time even though he’s going to stay ripped forever because of the serum.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Bucky said.

“You don’t – oh. Right,” Tony said, picking up the mixer. “Never mind. I’m just rambling – ignore me.” He whipped the cream slowly, making sure he didn’t splatter the stuff all over himself. It was strange to think that Steve Rogers’ best friend didn’t remember everything about him; the way Steve had acted the night before, it had almost seemed like Steve and Bucky had known each other well. He wondered how Steve could do it – how Steve could stay so positive about everything. If it was Rhodey or Pepper in Bucky’s place, Tony wasn’t so sure he’d know what to say or do. He shut off the hand mixer and set it down, popping the beaters out. He picked one up and licked it. Damn. He didn’t realize how much he had missed fresh whipped cream.

Bucky cleared his throat.

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

“Never mind,” Bucky said. He carried the plate of pancakes over to the kitchen table, moving a little bit like he was trying to race Tony there even on two broken legs, and sat down on the far side of the table.

“You know you’ve got a wheelchair there for a reason,” Tony said, dryly.

“I’m used to pain,” Bucky said, shrugging.

Tony picked up the bowl of whipped cream and put it on top of the two plates he had set out. He carried the stack and a two sets of forks and knives over to the kitchen table. He retrieved the syrup and margarine and pushed everything over so Bucky could reach it.

Bucky pushed the plate of pancakes over to Tony.

Tony stabbed the top two pancakes and put them onto a plate. He held the plate out to Bucky. “Here you go,” he said.

Bucky took the plate, licking his lips again. He hesitated when it came to reaching for anything else, and waited for Tony to finish with everything before touching the margarine, syrup and whipped cream.

Tony ate, watching Bucky as covertly as he could manage between bites.

Bucky let out a burp and covered his mouth with his arm, looking grim.

Tony chuckled. “I take it that was a good pancake?”

Bucky shrugged. “Anything’s good compared to the protein shakes they used to feed me. I didn’t get anything solid from Hydra.”

Tony froze, fork halfway to his plate. “They had you on an entirely _liquid_ diet?”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “There was protein paste too.”

“You’ve been eating food since you’ve been out in the world though, right?” Tony asked.

Bucky shook his head.

Tony’s stomach felt like it had been filled with cement. Bucky had been subsisting off of protein drinks and pastes the _entire_ time he had been free from Hydra’s grasp? The guy had been on his own for almost a year now – and he hadn’t had a single bite of solid food? How the hell had he managed to find that many protein drinks with no money? That stuff was expensive – not that he actually looked at the costs – and it certainly wasn’t easy to get hold of. _Sweet mother of fuck_ , Steve could have tracked Bucky across the earth by combing through health stores records. Things could have been so much easier if they had just known this one, _tiny_ detail.

Bucky watched Tony carefully. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked, slowly.

“No,” Tony said, giving his head a shake. “I’m just surprised you could resist cheeseburgers for that long.”

Bucky shrugged. “I didn’t really think about it. After a while, it got hard to remember why that kind of food was so important.”

Tony nodded to the plate of pancakes. “You know you can eat as much as you want now, right?”

“I know,” Bucky said. He glanced down at his empty plate and shrugged. “I’m not really all that hungry.”

“Oh?” Tony stuffed the forkful of pancake into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

A door creaked in the hallway across from the kitchen. Pepper and Natasha emerged from their room; Pepper was still dressed in her pajamas – a baggy shirt and a pair of sleep shorts – but Natasha was dressed in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved black t-shirt. She approached the table first, her gaze locked on Bucky.

Bucky stared back at Natasha, seemingly sizing her up without actually moving or breaking eye contact.

Pepper slipped past Bucky and pulled out the chair next to Tony. She collapsed into it and wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulder, pulling him closer. She kissed him on the cheek and leaned against his shoulder, yawning into it.

“I take it someone didn’t get a lot of sleep,” Tony drawled.

“There is no such thing as enough sleep,” Pepper said, her voice muffled by Tony’s shirt.

Tony laughed and put his fork down. He ruffled Pepper’s already rumpled hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m glad we’re home,” he said.

“Same here,” Pepper said.

Natasha sat down calmly in the chair beside Bucky. She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her fingers on her forearm.

Bucky stared blankly at Natasha.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, frowning at Natasha.

“As long as Barnes behaves himself, _nothing_ is going on right now,” Natasha said.

Tony sighed and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Alright – so I take it you’re not happy about Bucky being here,” he said.

“I didn’t say that,” Natasha said.

“So what’s with the intense staring and the Widow Bites under your sleeves?” Tony asked. He knew Bucky must have noticed the misshapen lumps on Natasha’s wrists. Part of him was curious as to why she thought she would need them for _breakfast_ , while another part of him was furious that she would bring a weapon to the table at all – as if Bucky was a _danger_. He paused, startled by the anger that had bubbled up inside him. He wasn’t naive. He knew just how dangerous the Winter Soldier was – how dangerous the _Asset_ had been – but this wasn’t the Winter Soldier they were dealing with. This was Bucky Barnes. This was the same Bucky – albeit the human version of the cat – that had cuddled with him on the couch and stolen his food. This was the same guy who had crawled into his bed the night before and been _nervous_ about it – who had thought Tony might kick him out and had been willing to leave if necessary.

Natasha eyed Tony carefully, her expression neutral. “You know why I’m wearing them,” she said. “He might not be safe, and I’m not going to risk anyone getting hurt just because you’re smitten with him.”

Tony flushed.

Pepper lifted her head. “Don’t tease him,” she grumbled.

“I’m not teasing him,” Natasha said with a scowl. “I’m not just sitting here because he’s got a pretty face. I’m here because Rhodes and I agree that Barnes is dangerous, even if he was fluffy and cute when he was here before.”

It was Bucky’s turn to flush.

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

Tony scowled, irritated by the interruption. “Yes?”

“Colonel Rhodes has informed me that he will be bringing up breakfast momentarily. He requests that you make space on the table,” Jarvis said.

“How much food did he get?” Tony asked, stabbing the last piece of pancake on his plate. He ate it and saw that Bucky was watching him with a somewhat pleased look on his face. Natasha didn’t look happy about that, but she didn’t say anything.

“Colonel Rhodes went out to procure breakfast with Captain Rogers, Mr. Barton and Mr. Odinson, sir,” Jarvis said.

“Oh,” Tony said. That meant there was going to be a veritable smorgasbord of food arriving. Thor and Steve could eat their way through a goddamned _supermarket_ if they had a mind to it; adding Clint and everyone else to the team meant there would be at least double the food necessary. He picked up the plate of Bucky’s pancakes and, after gently detaching Pepper, carried it over to the fridge. “No Bruce today?”

“Dr. Banner has requested alone time in his room. He has asked for food to be brought down later if any is left after breakfast,” Jarvis said. “I believe he was watching the footage obtained from Madame Hydra’s base to see if he could ascertain where the transmogrification gel substance was recreated – he has not transformed into the Hulk, sir, but I believe he felt it wise to not take any chances after what he saw.”

“Shit,” Tony said. “He probably shouldn’t have watched _anything_ from that base.”

“I did warn him, sir,” Jarvis said. “He was insistent.”

“Great,” Tony said with a sigh.

Bucky watched Tony, his expression blank.

“Ok, listen up you fridge foraging bastards. These pancakes are _mine_ ,” Tony said over his shoulder. “If anyone eats them, they’re getting kicked out of the Tower permanently.”

“Good to know,” Natasha said with a thin smile.

Pepper smirked and leaned against the table on her elbows. “Ok. So no touching the pancakes in the fridge. Got it. You might want to label them so Rhodey and the others don’t try to inhale them when they’re up here looking for a snack.”

“Good point,” Tony said. He grabbed a piece of saran wrap and a roll of masking tape from on top of the the fridge; fishing out a sharpie from the cupboard, he scrawled ‘ _Do Not Eat On Pain Of Death – I Mean It Clint’_ on the masking tape. It might not stop Clint – or anyone else – but at least he had tried. He wrapped the pancake up in the saran wrap, slapped the masking tape over them, and put them in the fridge.

“So does Rhodey want the syrup, whipped cream and margarine left out?” Pepper asked. “Or did they do a burger run or something?”

“Colonel Rhodes says everything will be fine where it is,” Jarvis said.

“Excellent,” Pepper said. “I love when I don’t have to get up and move things around.”

“Don’t we all,” Tony chuckled.

The elevator dinged.

Thor, Clint and Rhodey stepped out, each carrying an armload of food. They had gone to the Dutch Tulip, a breakfast restaurant down the block, and had likely cleaned the place out. The plastic bags filled with Styrofoam containers they carried over to the table were stretched out and hung low, struggling to stay in one piece.

Tony licked his lips and slipped around the table, trying to get at the crepes he knew were there, hidden from sight waiting to be discovered.

Rhodey laughed and shooed Tony away, putting his bags down as Thor did the same on the opposite side of the table. Clint took over the end of the table and made himself comfortable in the chair he found there.

“You just _had_ pancakes,” Pepper said, smiling at Tony, her eyes twinkling. “How are you still hungry, Tony?”

“There are _crepes_ in there,” Tony said, trying not to pout. “You know my feelings about crepes.”

Pepper smiled and leaned against the table, glancing over at Bucky. “I see.”

Bucky looked between Rhodey and Thor, watching as they unpacked Styrofoam container after Styrofoam container. He seemed almost confused by the sheer amount of food that had appeared before them. When Rhodey accidentally brushed his left shoulder, he flinched away, pressing himself up against the back of his chair as if he had been burned.

Tony gave Rhodey a gentle poke. “Watch his shoulder,” he mumbled into Rhodey’s ear. He grabbed a chair and pulled it over, putting himself in between Natasha and Bucky, wanting to make sure that their breakfast was murder-free. He leaned closer to Bucky as plates and cutlery were dispersed around the table and reclaimed his pancake plate and fork from where it sat beside Pepper.

Thor sat at the end of the table. Rhodey sat down across from Tony, beside Pepper and began scooping scrambled eggs out onto his plate with a serving spoon. There was plenty of food to go around, even with a god and two super soldiers, and all of it was still warm.

Pepper snatched up the first box of stuffed crepes she saw and handed them across the table to Tony. “Your crepes, My Liege.”

Tony grinned. “Thank you, my lady,” he said. He rolled three crepes onto his plate and then slipped one onto Bucky’s. “Or rather, thank you _Natasha’s_ lady – I don’t want her to stab me with something.”

“Smart man,” Natasha murmured.

Bucky watched Tony, his head cocked to the side, frowning down at the crepe on his plate.

Tony set the crepe container down with a mock flourish and went about tracking down the bacon, sausages, ham and every other type of breakfast meat he could find, putting a little bit of everything on Bucky’s plate and a bit on his own; he watched Bucky out of the corner of his eye as he picked up containers, hoping he wasn’t doing something unwanted, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind the loading up of his plate – in fact, he seemed almost _happy_ now.

“I’ve missed you, _real breakfast food_ ,” Rhodey said, staring solemnly down at his plate.

“Me too,” Pepper said. “If someone ever offers me powdered eggs and canned milk again I’m going to punch them in the face.” She handed a plate stacked high with food to Natasha and then set about making another one for herself.

Natasha smiled softly and dug in, tackling the heaping pile of waffles with obvious relish; she kept her body turned slightly so she could watch Bucky.

Bucky hesitated, fork in hand. He looked over at Tony and then back at his plate and started eating.

Tony smirked; Pepper smirked back at him.

 

 

Steve wandered into the kitchen twenty minutes into the breakfast feast carrying a duffle bag that smelled strongly of burnt metal and hydraulic fluid. He had a fruit platter tucked under his arm and a bag of mixed pastries hanging from his wrist.

“There you are,” Tony said around a mouthful of crepes. “What took you so long, Cap? Did you get stuck walking an old person across the street again?”

“Not this time,” Steve said, grinning at Tony. “I stopped by my room after I got back to go pick up Bucky’s arm.” He carried the duffle bag over to Bucky and set it down on the floor beside him. “Here you go, Bucky.”

Bucky stiffened; his fork dropped to his plate with a clatter that was swallowed up by the sounds of forks hitting plates as everyone continued to eat. He remained ramrod straight in his chair as Steve squeezed his shoulder and stared off into the distance, his eyes slightly out of focus.

Tony scowled. What the fuck was Steve _doing_? Did the man have no tact at all? He’d thought Captain America was supposed to be good at taking in details!

Steve snagged a plate and began scooping himself out a monstrous heap of food after depositing his fruit platter and pastries on the table. When he was finished, finally satisfied with the heap, he stood behind Tony and Bucky and started eating. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to take a look at his arm,” Steve said in between mouthfuls.

Tony glanced down at the duffle bag. Ah, so that was why it had smelled strange. “Is that it?”

“That’s it alright,” Steve said. “Do you want to take a look at it now?” He made as if to bend down, plate precariously balanced in his hand.

Bucky tensed further, gritting his teeth.

“I’ll take a look at it later. Drop it off by the elevator, will you? That smell’s pretty strong,” Tony said, quickly, wrinkling his nose.

“Oh – right. Sorry about that. I think I’ve gotten used to the smell – I don’t even notice it anymore,” Steve said, looking sheepish. He picked up the bag and carried it off.

Bucky remained stiff; he didn’t pick up his fork again, and instead began watching everyone intently, his eyes darting back and forth, checking out exits and entrances. He looked like he was one step away from bolting.

Tony shifted his chair closer until his knee was bumping up against Bucky’s.

Bucky turned, whip-fast, his fist clenched; his shoulders slumped when he realized what had touched him.

Tony leaned closer so he could mumble in Bucky’s ear. “It’s alright. You’re safe here.”

Bucky grimaced and wrapped his arm around his waist. “I know.”

“So,” Steve said, returning to stand directly behind Bucky, “After this you can come down to my floor, Bucky – we can get you set up in the guest room there.” He popped a piece of cantaloupe in his mouth. “I mean – if you want to, of course. You don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to.”

Tony snorted into his hand, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Steve was kidding himself – Bucky didn’t have a _choice_ about moving in; even he could see that. Steve looked like he was about to break out the puppy dog eyes again, and or possibly burst into tears and no one – _no one_ – could say no to Captain America for long.

Bucky shrugged but didn’t respond.

“Great!” Steve said, beaming. “I’m glad you’re home – we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

 

 

Steve and Rhodey cleared the table while Clint and Thor divided the food up for distribution around the Tower, picking out a little bit of everything for Bruce.

Tony was pleased to see that Thor had put most of the crepes in the container that would end up staying in the penthouse; he hadn’t thought the god had known that much about him, but apparently Thor was a lot more observant than most. Tony watched everyone work, his hunger satiated, and leaned against Bucky, nearly nodding off as Bucky’s body heat seeped into him. He wondered idly if he was going to get himself into trouble by using Bucky as a pillow all the time. It wasn’t as if they’d actually had their talk yet – for all he knew, Bucky was suffering from some kind of residual cat-snugglyness that hadn’t gone away.

Bucky kept his gaze on Natasha; she watched him right back.

“So,” Pepper said, turning her chair so she could stare at Steve. “When are we going to have our little talk?”

Steve sighed and put the container of food he was working on down. “I was hoping we could give it a day or two – until Bucky settles in a bit.”

Pepper squinted at Steve, her arms crossed over her chest. “Bucky looks pretty settled in to me,” she said.

Steve flushed.

“Don’t worry, Pep,” Rhodey said, patting Steve on the shoulder. “He’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

Steve nodded feverishly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” Pepper said. “Because I’m sick of people disappearing without saying anything.” She turned ever-so-slightly in her chair and squinted at Natasha.

Natasha sighed. “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” Pepper muttered.

Steve cleared his throat. “Maybe we should get going down to your lab, Tony,” he said. “I’m sure Bucky’d love to get his arm working again.”

Tony felt Bucky stiffen against him. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t really feel like working yet.”

“He is not bringing the Winter Soldier down into his workshop yet,” Natasha said flatly.

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not bringing the Winter Soldier – I’m bringing _Bucky_. And who said you get to dictate who comes and goes in _my_ workshop?”

“I know you mean well,” Natasha said, standing up. “But you’re not thinking straight.”

“No offense, but _fuck you_ , Natasha,” Tony growled.

“I’m not trying to be _mean_ ,” Natasha said softly, looking hurt. “I’m trying to do this the easy way.”

“The easy way?” Tony said, glaring at Natasha. “What the hell does that mean?”

“He might be Bucky Barnes now, but he wasn’t for a long time, Tony,” Natasha said. “I know what that’s like. It’s not fair to anyone to pretend that he’s not a danger – it isn’t going to help him to pretend he’s fine.”

“He’s not a danger,” Steve said.

“That’s to be determined,” Natasha said, standing up.

“Natasha – we’ve _talked_ about this,” Steve snapped. “We’re not locking him up.”

“I’m not suggesting we do,” Natasha said. “If he’s here, living under our roof, he’s going to be supervised at all times. I’m not putting Pepper’s life – or anyone else’s – at risk because you don’t want to offend Barnes. If he stays, he’s going to have to get a tracker put into him. He’s going to have to follow some rules – for his safety and ours.”

“Alright,” Bucky said.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is this absolutely necessary?”

“You have trackers, don’t you?” Bucky murmured.

“That’s different,” Tony said. “I put them there myself – I had a choice!”

“He needs to be trackable,” Natasha said. “This isn’t a _consultation_ , Tony. This is what’s going to happen.”

“And who died and made you the king of the world?” Tony said, standing up, his fists clenched at his sides.

“I’m not the only one who wants this,” Natasha said.

Tony looked around the room. Pepper looked away; Rhodey looked down at the container of food he was packing. Thor stared right back at Tony and shook his head. Clint sighed and looked down at the table.

“So you _all_ think he needs one,” Tony said, flatly.

“Until we know for sure that the Winter Soldier is gone,” Pepper said, her voice soft but stern, “I think this is for the best.”

“I said its fine, Tony,” Bucky said. He hesitated and then touched Tony’s arm. “If it makes people feel safe around me, it’s fine.”

Tony let out a huffed breath. “It’s not fine.”

“I don’t like the Soldier any more than you do,” Bucky said. “I don’t remember what I did, but I know I killed a lot of people – I don’t want to hurt anyone again.”

Tony felt like he had been clocked upside the head. Stunned, he watched Natasha, unsure of what to do.

Natasha smiled grimly. “Good.” She walked into the living room and pulled a tracking gun out from behind the pillows on the couch; she hadn’t been taking any risks. She cocked the gun and strode over to Bucky, her stride confidant. “Take off your shirt.”

Bucky didn’t falter. He pulled his shirt up over his head and let it drop into his lap, settling his hand there on top of it. His left shoulder was webbed with scars, the skin there smooth and shiny around the metal connector port that had been attached directly to Bucky’s flesh. A quick look was all it took for Tony to know that the connector port was likely attached directly to the bone and nerve endings. How had Hydra managed something this complicated so long ago? It must have been excruciatingly painful – no wonder Bucky didn’t like his shoulder being touched.

Natasha pressed the tracker gun against Bucky’s back, right between his shoulder blades.

Bucky didn’t say anything as she fired.

“Take off a sock,” Natasha said.

Bucky reached down. “Which one?”

“Your choice,” Natasha said.

Bucky pursed his lips and then pulled off his left sock. He lifted his foot up.

Natasha pushed Bucky’s big toe to the side and slotted the gun between it and his first toe. She fired.

This time, Bucky grimaced.

“There,” Natasha said. “Jarvis will be monitoring you at all times. You will remain with someone on the team when you leave the building, and if you try and pick the trackers out, I will come and find you.”

“Alright,” Bucky said. He winced and rubbed at the space between his toes, wiping away a dribble of blood before pulling his sock back on.

“If you hurt him,” Natasha said, her voice pitched low so only Bucky and Tony could hear her, “I will _kill_ you. Understand?”

Tony frowned at Natasha. What was she talking about? Who was she worried about? Steve?

“Understood,” Bucky said. He pulled his shirt on over his head and sighed when it got stuck there. He twisted the fabric, aligning his head with the neck hole and pulled it on, wrestling his way into his shirt.

“Is that it?” Steve asked, his mouth set in a flat line.

“The trackers are in and functional,” Jarvis said. “As requested, I will monitor them and report any strange readings.”

Natasha put her hand on Bucky’s left shoulder; he didn’t flinch under her touch. “Thank you,” she said.

Bucky remained still. “For what?”

“For letting me do this,” Natasha said. She turned away and walked back to Pepper’s room disappearing inside.

Bucky stood up and snagged Tony’s wrist again. “Can we go to your workshop now?”

“Sure,” Tony said. He felt tired, more tired than he had when he had been without Extremis while under Madame Hydra and Rumlow’s thumb. He allowed himself pointed towards the elevator.

“Wait up,” Steve said. He grabbed the wheelchair and pushed it over to them, motioning for Bucky to sit down.

“You’re coming too?” Bucky asked.

“Of course,” Steve said. He guided Bucky into the chair. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”

Tony sighed, staring straight ahead. He had had a feeling Steve would be sticking around; it was probably a miracle that the guy hadn’t shown up the night before and crawled into bed with them. That, in of itself wasn’t a _horrible_ image, but it would have been awkward as hell.

“I’m sure Tony’s itching to get a look at your arm,” Steve said. “I don’t want you to have to go through this alone – I’m here for you. Until the end of the line, remember?” He wrapped an arm around Bucky’s shoulder and reeled him in for a hug.

Bucky sat, his fingers wrapped tightly around Tony’s wrist.

They walked over to the elevator. Tony picked up the duffle bag and kept it on the opposite side of his body, well away from Bucky.

The elevator dinged; they got inside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if anything funky appears and I'll fix it! Thanks for reading! :D


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being home was great; being with his friends was even better. He just hoped he could keep things that way.

Tony cleared his throat as they stepped out of the elevator and made their way over to his workshop; the doors were already open, thanks to Jarvis, and the place was spotless, likely thanks to Dummy having nothing to do since he had arrived home. It was a pity, because if there was some kind of mess around, he could use that to his advantage. “So,” he said, looking over at Steve. “So what are you going to do while I work?” He knew damn well Steve wasn’t going to go anywhere, but maybe if he knew what Steve  _ expected _ to do, he could shoo the guy away with some kind of task.

Steve wheeled Bucky along in the wheelchair, following Tony’s lead. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess I just want to be here for support. I’m sure I can find something.”

Tony cringed inwardly. _Support_? Damn it! Why did it have to be support? That was the _one_ thing you couldn’t task away _immediately_. “That’s very nice of you,” he said, burying away his urge to tell Steve to get the hell out of his workshop. Bucky’s hand wrapped around his wrist was a solid presence; he could feel just how painfully stiff Bucky was sitting without even having to look at the guy, and the longer Steve seemed to be around the stiffer Bucky became.

“Just so you know,” Tony said, making space on his worktable for the duffle bag holding Bucky’s arm, “I’m probably not going to be doing much with this today aside from scanning it in and figuring out how it works.”

“That’s ok,” Steve said, smiling widely. “Anything you do is fine.” He pushed Bucky’s wheel chair up to the worktable, seating his friend beside the duffle bag, and went to go find himself a rolling chair.

While Steve’s back was turned, Tony took the chance to look at Bucky. What he saw made him grimace. Bucky had absolutely no expression on his face; it was as if he had been scrubbed of feelings, although his grip on Tony’s wrist told another story. Bucky was not happy with what he was seeing; he just wasn’t outright saying it.

“You like to draw, right Cap?” Tony said, glancing down at his workstation. He regretted moving away from Bucky, but it had to be done. He had plenty of paper around, and if Steve didn’t want to use that he could always make use of the holographic projections; Steve was a quick learner, after all.

Bucky’s hand dropped gently back into his lap.

“I do like to draw,” Steve said, pulling a rolling chair over to the worktable. He plunked himself down and leaned against the table, watching Tony, an amused smile on his face. “How did you know?”

“Oh, you know,” Tony said with a shrug, “A little spider told me.” He didn’t say that he’d known about Steve’s love of art through his father’s private Captain America collection – that would have been a little too intimate to reveal. He found a pad of paper buried under a pile of ancient schematics, ones he had scrounged from his father’s archive for further study and had never gotten around to looking at again once he was done with them and tore the top sheet off so Steve didn’t have to look at the scribbled notes there. He handed the pad off with a flourish and then went about looking for a pen or pencil Steve could use, hoping it would be enough to keep Steve completely occupied.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Steve said, gravely. “You can start working. I can find something to draw with on my own.”

Tony grinned. “Alright, Cap.” He glanced over at Bucky and then at the duffle bag again. He didn’t want to open it with Bucky so close, not if just being near the bag had caused Bucky to practically shut down. He picked the duffle bag up and slung it over his shoulder. “I’ll get to work. Back in a sec,” he said.

“Aren’t you going to work _here_?” Steve asked. He gestured to the worktable with the pencil he had found.

“I need to get this bad boy all spread out so I can scan it,” Tony said. “It’s easier to do when I’m not working on a table.” He smiled, pleased with the half-truth he had concocted. He hesitated, hand hovering above Bucky’s shoulder, unsure of what to do next aside from leaving to get to work.

Bucky looked up at Tony. “Can I play with that shiny blue thing you always use down here?” he asked.

“You mean the holograms?” Tony asked. He pulled a holographic keyboard into existence using Extremis and brought up the user interface he usually gave Pepper and Rhodey – the one that wasn’t full of obscure symbols and coding shortcuts. Pepper and Rhodey knew tidbits of his system, of course, but it was a hell of a lot easier to just let them work with something they knew, and hopefully it would be the same for Bucky. “Just tap the blue box here,” he said, motioning to the search bar, “and type in whatever you want to look for with the keyboard. And if you can’t still can’t find something you want to do, just ask Jarvis and he’ll make the magic happen.”

Bucky smiled broadly. “Ok, Tony.”

“Alright,” Tony said. “You boys have fun.”

Steve chuckled. “You too.”

 

 

Tony grabbed his favourite toolkit and carried the duffle bag over to a spot on the floor beside the production line. Here he could work without distractions or causing Bucky stress; there was no way Bucky or Steve could see him on this side of the workshop, and he knew that the work he was about to do would likely make Bucky extremely uncomfortable. He set the duffle bag down and sat cross-legged on the floor; he pulled the bag open to get at the arm inside. He expected to find the arm in complete chaos, perhaps in pieces, but what he found instead was what could have been a fully functional limb aside from a large section of torn metal where the arm would connect with Bucky’s shoulder. It was a beautiful piece of machinery, Tony thought, shaking his head. It was such a shame that the arm had come into existence the way it had. If it hadn’t been developed and attached to Bucky without his consent, it might even have been considered a gift for mankind of sorts, although he wasn’t sure if anyone would ever want to accept a gift from _Hydra_. He really _hated_ it when people used tech for evil.

Tony worked in silence, executing commands via Extremis; with no words, there would be no way to accidentally have Bucky overhear something he had discovered about the cybernetic arm, and there was a lot to discover – some of which he was going to have to report to the team. He scanned the arm with Jarvis’ cameras, and broke the arm down virtually. The scans revealed just how terrifyingly complex the arm was, how intricate the inner workings were. There was a hell of an artificial nervous system built into the arm – something that was both amazing and horrifying – and some of what Tony saw was intricate to the point of almost _impossibility_. Whoever it was that had built and maintained the arm had had some serious chops on them. And yet, the arm wasn’t perfect. Some of the repairs and installations would have had to have been done while the arm was still _attached_ , and adjusting nerves that way, well, it made Tony want to throw up just _thinking_ about it.

Thankfully it wasn’t all complexity and horror. The cybernetic arm hadn’t been torn from Bucky when it had been removed. It had been detached at the edge of the shoulder, leaving behind a three inches of stump of metal to work with – the remaining connections Tony hadn’t had a chance to see yet – and while the arm had sustained damage from that detachment, everything was intact. Tony let out a huffed breath and scowled down at the arm. Hydra hadn’t given Bucky a plain old _arm_ – oh no. This was a cleverly made cluster of traps weaved _into_ an arm. The old files SHIELD had grabbed had been right, albeit mostly useless when it came to the actual traps. The Hydra scientists that had worked on the Winter Soldier must have been using some of what they had built in to keep Bucky in his place – to inforce compliance. There were parts within the arm that discharged electric shocks directly into the artificial nerves when stimulated, all of which could be triggered by a remote device. He was going to need to be careful. If Hydra had built in shocks, they might have put in something more dangerous – something that might even still be in Bucky’s shoulder.

Tony picked up the cybernetic arm and began pulling the arm apart with tools instead of scanners.

 

 

 

Tony wiped the sweat from his brow; he was shaky, but relieved. When he was satisfied that he had ferreted out every last booby-trap, every last _disaster_ waiting to happen that Hydra had built into the arm to keep someone from tampering with it, he disassembled the arm and spread it out on the floor in front of him. He made notes with Extremis as he worked, taking in the barebones of the cybernetic arm, pleased to see it free of danger. From the previous scans, he could tell as expected, Hydra hadn’t cared all that much about their Asset’s comfort – the artificial nerves conducted a lot more pain than necessary whether they were damaged or functioning properly – and while he had known about that particular little treat, he hadn’t realized the sheer scale of the torment they had put Bucky through on any given day. It was surprising the guy had been able to walk around at all without constantly flinching; Bucky must have had an insanely high tolerance for pain.

Worst of all, even with the cybernetic arm scanned in and broken down into quadrants, it was hard to tell if the constant pain the arm caused was because Hydra had been unable to fix the nerve output or because they simply hadn’t cared enough to tweak it. Maybe the bastards had just been unwilling to do anything to give the Winter Soldier a smidgen of kindness to cling to; maybe they had been afraid to turn the pain off for fear of Bucky rebelling. Either way, the new arm would be different from the old one. There was a lot he could do to make the tech more efficient – sleeker, quicker and less painful – but he wasn’t ready for it to be put onto production yet. He wanted to talk to Bucky about the arm, needed to get Bucky’s input before he went any further – but most of all, he needed to take a look at the part of Bucky’s shoulder where the arm had been attached. He didn’t really want to touch Bucky’s shoulder – not so soon after what had happened at breakfast – but it would have to happen today. There was no putting it off; if there was a bomb built into the attachment components – a bomb built into Bucky’s body, even – they would need to know. It was too dangerous to leave it be.

Tony stalked over to the wall across from the production line and pulled a thick lead-lined box from under a stack of packing crates. He loaded the cybernetic arm’s parts into the box, making sure nothing was missed, and put it away, tossing the duffle bag into the trash to be burned. Steve would probably protest, but the thing smelled awful and there was no way to get the oil and fluids out of the fabric.

“Tony?” Steve called out. “You ok over there?”

“I’m fine, Cap,” Tony said, dusting off his hands. He packed up his toolkit and carried it over, setting it down on the edge of his worktable as not to disturb Steve’s artwork, or Bucky’s internet browsing. He glanced over surreptitiously, trying to guess if Bucky was feeling less frazzled and saw that Bucky was browsing on an animal adoption site. Bucky was looking at cats.

Bucky quickly closed the internet browser and turned to face Tony, his expression grim. “You need to see my shoulder,” he said.

Tony gnawed on his lower lip. He’d been hoping to ask Bucky about what he’d been up to before heading for the shoulder – but apparently Bucky wasn’t one for beating around the bush. Damn. It would have been nice to know what kind of cats Bucky had been looking at – for scientific reasons, of course. “Unfortunately yes,” he said, clearing his throat. “I have to take a look at it, but only when you’re feeling up to it.”

Bucky rolled his wheelchair closer to Tony, turning it so his back was to the work table. “Go ahead,” he said. “May as well get this over with.”

Tony took his time opening up his toolkit. He pulled a pair of sterile gloves from the compartment on the side and stacked pads of gauze, alcohol and wet wipes on the table, not sure what he would need to use. He cleared his throat. “So, uh,” he said, “what were you looking at?”

“Nothing much,” Bucky said. “Just looking at stuff.”

“Sounds like fun,” Tony said. He pulled a rolling chair closer and positioned himself so he was parallel to Bucky’s stump. “You’re going to need to take your shirt off,” he said. “Do you want help?”

Bucky scowled and pulled the shirt up and over his head, messing up his hair in the process. He continued to scowl at Tony through his bangs as he dropped his shirt into his lap.

Tony grinned. “Aww,” he said. He pushed Bucky’s hair back behind his ears, unable to resist the urge to help smooth things out.

Bucky’s cheeks went faintly pink. He cleared his throat and turned his head so he could stare at the holographic keyboard still floating beside him. “Stop staring and get to work.”

Tony let out a low whistle and pulled on his gloves. Bucky’s shoulder was a real nightmare. The doctors who had done the surgery and attachment of Bucky’s cybernetic arm had taken out a lot of flesh. They had fused skin to metal and bone, and Bucky was missing a whole chunk of flesh and muscle over his shoulder blade, as well as the flesh under his armpit and around his left pectoral. Everything that had been removed had been replaced by metal. There was bone deep inside the shoulder connector, buried underneath layers of metal and electronics; that bone was holding everything together, with pins and screws neatly attached to it to keep the arm fully functional. The artificial nerves connected to the ones in Bucky’s body. There was no separation – it was a single, solid, unit now.

Tony pulled his gloves on and put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, where the seam of metal met scarred and tormented flesh. He was grateful that everything had healed properly and that it wasn’t causing Bucky any pain. “Ok, I’m going to start poking around now – if something doesn’t feel right, or it hurts I need you to tell me.”

Bucky nodded.

“I mean it,” Tony said, giving the fleshy part of Bucky’s shoulder a gentle pat. “I could do some real damage here if I accidentally touch an exposed nerve or trigger something.”

“I trust you,” Bucky said, firmly. He gritted his teeth.

Tony smiled softly. “Ok,” he said.

Steve looked up from the sketch he was working on, his eyes wide. “Do you need me to do anything?”

“Nope,” Tony said. “Just keep doing your thing, Cap. We’re all good here.”

“If you say so,” Steve said, glancing nervously between Bucky and Tony. He didn’t go back to drawing; instead, he leaned on his elbows and watched as Tony worked.

Tony let out a hissed breath through his teeth. He didn’t like that he’d be having an active audience for this, but short of telling Steve to fuck the hell off, there wasn’t much he could do about it – and yelling at Captain America normally didn’t end well for him. As long as Steve stayed quiet and out of the way, he didn’t really have an excuse to kick Steve out; he would have to stay calm and accept the inevitable. Besides – it probably wasn’t a good idea to go after Bucky’s ‘best friend’ – even if Steve did seem fairly clueless. Sighing wearily, he felt along the metal seam, checking for damage and found nothing of note aside from a few scrapes from Bucky probably scratching at his shoulder.

“Anything?” Steve asked.

“Not yet,” Tony said. “Jarvis – scan the shoulder and attachment cuff for me please.”

“Scanning now, sir,” Jarvis said.

Tony hummed softly to himself and moved along, inspecting the next inch of metal beneath his fingertips. He moved unhurriedly, giving Jarvis time to scan and compile information, all the while watching Bucky’s face for signs of pain. So far, everything _seemed_ to be going well.

“I’m fine,” Bucky said, wrapping his arm around his middle. He shivered; goosebumps broke out across his skin. He leaned into Tony’s touch.

Tony shifted his chair closer and felt along the edge of the shoulder attachment. He could see where the arm had been taken off and the damage was expected; it wouldn’t be hard to fix, even though a few jagged pieces were still attached and needed to be removed. Telegraphing his every move, he pulled a pair of pliers from his toolkit and wiped them down with alcohol.

Bucky wrinkled his nose.

“Sorry,” Tony said. “It’s a necessary evil. I know how bad this crap smells. I’m trying to get some scent free stuff into production but its slow going.”

Bucky shrugged, moving only his flesh-and-blood shoulder. “It’s fine. I’m used to it. I just don’t like it.”

“Feeling anything weird?” Tony asked. “Anything hurt?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Bucky said.

“Good,” Tony said. He leaned closer, using Extremis to magnify his vision, and began plucking at the shards of metal. It wasn’t a quick fix like he had been expecting; it took him half an hour to wiggle the last of the parts free, and when he did he spotted an exposed connector attached to one of the artificial nerves. Grimacing, he maneuvered the plyers and gently prodded the flat connector beside the nerve until it shut off and sank back into the shoulder.

Bucky let out a lewd, breathy moan and slumped against the wheelchair’s back.

Tony swallowed hard and tried not to think about how that kind of moan would have sounded in his bedroom. “Better?” he said, his mouth going dry.

Bucky grunted. His eyes were closed, and the hand in his lap was curled against his belly.

“What just happened?” Steve asked, slowly.

“I shut off a nerve in his shoulder that’s been acting up,” Tony said. He put the pliers down and gave Bucky’s shoulder another sweep, his fingers slipping over the cool, smooth, metal and warm flesh. He was pleased with what he saw; there would be no problems with the arm again, and with fine-tuning, the nerves could be tamed and made useful instead of debilitating.

Steve pushed back his chair; it shrieked as it slid across the floor. “Wait one _goddamned_ second,” he said, his voice more growl than Tony had ever heard it before. “You’re telling me he’s been in pain this _entire_ time, but he hasn’t said anything about it?”

Bucky glanced over at Steve, his eyes slightly glazed over. He smiled lazily. “It’s fine, Steve,” he said, flapping his hand at Steve. “M’feeling _good_.”

Tony winced. It most definitely was _not_ fine that Bucky had been suffering in silence, and he knew without even having to think about it that Steve wasn’t going to see what had happened as even _remotely_ fine, not even if Bucky was smiling while he said it. He braced for the rant that was about to come.

Steve slammed his hands down on the worktable. It let out an ominous crack and split down the middle but remained upright, the two halves pressed together. Steve didn’t even look embarrassed that he had just destroyed a million dollar piece of equipment in Tony’s workshop; he was too busy seething to see anything other than red. “You said you’d tell me if something was _wrong_ , Bucky,” he said, “You told me you were _fine_.”

Bucky went very still in his wheelchair; his gaze locked onto Steve’s. “I feel like I always do. It’s always been like this – it’s better now.”

Tony put his face in his hands with a groan. _Fantastic_. There would be no stopping Steve – at least not until the guy had gotten out the last of his Captain America Is Furious rage-build-up. Hell, Steve wasn’t the only one angry. Tony was angry too now that he had heard Bucky admit that he had _always_ been in constant pain, but he wasn’t going to just start screaming just because he was mad; he wasn’t his father. He knew what screaming in someone’s face could do – how crushing that could be. He was starting to think he was one of the more adjusted people in the room, and that scared him more than seeing Steve angry.

“I rinsed you off in the shower last night,” Steve continued. “Did that cause problems too? Was I electrocuting you without realizing it? What else weren’t you telling me?”

“I wasn’t lying to you,” Bucky said with a growl, gripping the arm rest on his wheelchair tightly.

“It doesn’t matter if you weren’t _lying_ – you weren’t telling me the _truth_!” Steve roared. “We talked about _trust_ last night, Buck – we talked about how you not saying something could get someone killed – I thought I made it clear that we were all going to have to make concessions in order to get along.”

“I don’t understand,” Bucky said, looking from Tony to Steve. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“What would have happened if _Tony_ had stumbled upon a live wire in your arm? What if he’d touched something in there and it had killed you?” Steve said, his voice cracking. “What would you have done if it had killed _him_?”

Bucky slumped in the wheelchair. His hand released the arm rest; he wrapped his arm around his waist, letting his fingers dig into the waistband of his sweatpants.

“This isn’t some kind of a game for me! And it shouldn’t be for you either!” Steve said.

“ _Enough_ ,” Tony said, trying not to shout on Bucky’s behalf. It took every last inch of his self-control to stay calm and simply speak instead of shouting at Steve until he went blue in the face. “He gets it, Steve. He understands that what he did was wrong. You can stop now.”

“I don’t think he _does_ get it,” Steve snapped. “I don’t think _you_ get it either!” His cheeks were bright red, and he looked a bit like he was about to start crying; this wasn’t just anger – it was _terror_ , sheer, unbridled terror.

“I’m not saying I’m happy about him withholding things,” Tony said, not rising to the bait. He hated that Bucky hadn’t told them that he was hurting but he knew why Bucky hadn’t said anything – why Bucky hadn’t bothered telling them he was hurting. He had done the same thing so many times over the years; it was easier to hide the pain than go to the hospital – or be touched by someone when you didn’t want to be touched. It was easier to pretend you were fine than to admit that something was wrong. It was easier to live with the pain, because one day that pain would become nothing more than background noise. “I’m saying one time is enough. You’ve said your piece now let it drop,” Tony said.

Steve snorted. “Since when has once ever been enough for _anyone_ in this Tower?”

“Rogers,” Tony said, his eyes narrowing. “ _Cut it out_.”

“I’m not lecturing him because I’m trying to be mean, Stark,” Steve said. He was full-on shaking now, his hands clenched at his sides. “I could have lost him at any time – that nerve in his arm could have overloaded and Bucky could have ended up a vegetable! I don’t want to lose him again – I can’t lose him again! Not after everything we’ve been through!”

Tony grimaced. Steve wasn’t wrong to be afraid of Bucky dying. If Bucky had kept quiet and he hadn’t worked on the arm, Bucky might well have had an accidental overload to his artificial nerves and ended up spending the rest of his life in a coma or something worse.

“How am I supposed to help him if he won’t _talk_ to me?” Steve said. Tears welled in his eyes.

Bucky looked down at his lap, his expression blank.

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I just can’t sit by and do nothing while you’re hurting.” He turned away from the desk. “Maybe I should go and cool off – I can’t think right now without wanting to grab you by the shoulders and shake you.”

“Bucky will be _fine_ , Cap,” Tony called out, watching Steve head over to the elevator. He didn’t like that Steve was leaving this way, but it was better than Steve leaving after he made things _worse_. “The arm’s been taken care of. I scanned him – there’s no way anyone is getting electrocuted. Bucky’s arm is sealed up. He just needs some rest and something to eat,” he said. “He’ll be fine, Steve – he’s not going anywhere.”

Steve stepped into the elevator Jarvis had so thoughtfully called down and kept his back to them as the doors closed.

Tony let out a low groan. Great. Captain America had gone off to _sulk_. It wasn’t the first time he had seen Steve walk away, and he suspected that it wouldn’t be the last time either. Captain America might know what to say and do at all times, but Steve Rogers wasn’t the same person – Steve Rogers had a bit of an anger problem. He looked over at Bucky and picked up a wet wipe, intending to wipe down the arm to insure that there would be no metal shavings or anything else waiting to be found by fingers. He wheeled his chair closer to Bucky and put a hand over top of Bucky’s when he saw that Bucky hadn’t moved since Steve’s departure. “He’s not mad,” he said.

“He destroyed your table,” Bucky mumbled.

“Yeah, he kind of did,” Tony said. “He’s an asshole when he’s worried.”

“He shouldn’t be. I’m not one of you – I’m an asset. I’m disposable,” Bucky muttered.

Tony scowled. “There is no way in hell that you are or will ever be disposable to me – to Steve – to any of us,” he said. “You’re part of the family whether you like it or not. And if anyone – _anyone_ – makes you feel that way, come to me or Steve and we’ll kick that person’s ass.”

Bucky didn’t look up from his lap.

“And for the record,” Tony said, wiping down the stump of Bucky’s shoulder, “If something hurts like this – if you’re in pain for _any_ goddamned reason, you can come to me, or Steve or anyone else in this Tower and we will find a way to make it stop. We’re here to _help_ you. We care – you’re not alone anymore.”

Bucky snorted and looked away.

“I’m _serious_ ,” Tony said. “I know we had a weird start, alright? But I’m not mad at you about that. I get why you didn’t want to tell us who you were, or that you were human. I’m annoyed, yes, but not angry. You know why?”

Bucky shook his head.

“I’m not angry, because I’m pretty sure if I was in your place I would have done the exact same thing,” Tony said.

Bucky looked up slowly.

Tony tossed the wet wipe into the trash and squeezed Bucky’s hand again.

“Sir?” Jarvis’ voice was hesitant.

Tony smiled grimly. “Yes?”

“Ms. Potts and Colonel Rhodes have brought back a large selection of food for lunch,” Jarvis said. “You have been down here for approximately five hours, and they are insisting that you come upstairs and eat.”

“Let me guess,” Tony said. “If I don’t go upstairs now they’re going to come down here and drag me up by my ear.”

“I believe that is the polite way of phrasing it, sir,” Jarvis said.

Tony chuckled. “Ok, ok. We’re coming.” He pulled his gloves off and tossed them into the trash and stood up, cracking his back. Maybe sitting on the floor hadn’t been the smartest idea. “Anyone else up there aside from Pepper and Rhodey?” he asked.

“They are alone, sir,” Jarvis said. “I believe Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barton are at SHIELD HQ enduring a briefing. Doctor Banner has returned to his work in his lab and does not wish to be disturbed, and Thor has left to go find Ms. Foster at her workplace.”

“Good to know,” Tony said. He leaned over Bucky as he put his tools away, clearing the table off before everything could end up all over the floor.

Bucky struggled back into his shirt silently, not looking at Tony, moving on autopilot.

Tony stepped around Bucky’s wheelchair and started pushing it towards the elevator. “I’m starving – let’s go get something to eat before my stomach decides to eat itself.” He grinned at his own joke and grimaced when Bucky’s expression remained blank and lifeless. He hoped food would help, because if it didn’t, he didn’t know what would other than time.

 

 

Tony wheeled Bucky to the kitchen table.

Pepper looked up from where she was chopping burgers on a cutting board on the counter beside the sink. “There you are,” she said, squinting dangerously at Tony. “I was starting to wonder if I was going to need to send Rhodey down there to get you two.”

“No need to send out the hounds,” Tony said, heading over to the fridge. “We have emerged alive and well. What’s for lunch?”

“A little bit of everything,” Pepper said, stacking halves of burgers onto separate plates. “I would have eaten leftovers, but burgers and lasagna were calling out to me.”

“Calling out to _both_ of us,” Rhodey said, pushing Tony of the way so he could grab bottles of root beer from the fridge. He nudged Tony towards the table with his elbow. “Get your ass to the table.”

“Yes sir,” Tony grumbled good-naturedly. He pulled out a chair beside Bucky and sat down, drumming his fingertips idly on the kitchen table as he watched Pepper and Rhodey speed around the kitchen, getting lunch together.

Bucky stared blankly ahead, his gaze seemingly glued to a spot on the wall beside the sink.

Pepper carried a platter of halved burgers to the table and then returned to grab a massive tray of lasagne, lugging everything around like it weighted nothing. Rhodey put the root beer onto the table and went back to retrieve the plates and forks.

“I can help set a table you know,” Tony grumbled petulantly. He had said the same thing to Jarvis and the family maids as a child; no one had ever listened to him aside to tell him ‘very good, sir,’ and no one was listening to him now either.

Rhodey snorted and sat down across from Tony, sprawling in his chair. “I’m not interested in cleaning food up off the floor when you go crashing into it.”

Tony scowled. “What are you implying? I’m inept?”

“We like feeding you,” Pepper said. She winked at Tony. “And as always, you’re paying for the food so it’s the least we can do.”

Tony laughed and picked up his bottle of root beer. “And I’m betting you want something, too.”

Pepper frowned. “How did you know that?”

“I guessed,” Tony said. He took a sip and watched as Pepper slipped halves of burgers onto plates, dividing everything up equally. “So you want a suit of your own, huh?”

“Yes,” Pepper said, handing Tony his plate.

“Anything in specific?” Tony asked. He slid a bottle of root beer over to Bucky.

Bucky picked up the bottle and held it in his lap, his gaze drawn to the plate Pepper put in front of him.

“Ideally I’d like something that doesn’t kill people,” Pepper said.

“Nonlethal?” Tony asked. He cocked an eyebrow. “That’s different.”

“I’d prefer to incapacitate rather than eviscerate,” Pepper said. “You two can do all the heavy lifting.”

“That I don’t mind,” Rhodey said. “Have you finished the upgrades on War Machine yet?”

“War Machine is upgraded and ready for action,” Tony said. “You still need to take it out and check if you like what I did with it though, so don’t get too excited.” He picked up a chunk of pulled-pork burger and took a bite. He moaned as the taste washed over him; he’d forgotten just how much flavor food could have.

Bucky watched Tony eat, unmoving.

Tony shifted his chair closer to Bucky’s wheelchair. “Did you have anything like this growing up?”

Bucky continued to stare at Tony’s food.

“Ok – never mind. You can tell me later. This is pulled pork,” he said, pointing to the corresponding burger on Bucky’s plate. “That’s plain beef and cheese, that one’s chicken and barbeque sauce and this one is some kind of veggie burger – I think it’s made up of ground nuts and mushrooms or something.”

Bucky swallowed hard and then licked his lips.

Tony took another bite from his burger and turned to face Pepper. “So,” he said, hiding his mouth with his hand, “Colours? What do you think? Red?”

“Everything you make is red,” Pepper grumbled.

“You don’t like red?” Tony asked, feigning hurt.

“Red is fine,” Pepper said, rolling her eyes. “Just don’t add any gold to it.”

“You don’t like gold?” Tony asked, pretending to be even more hurt by the admission.

“She doesn’t want to look like an Iron Man clone,” Rhodey said. “You know how much trouble you get into – probably a good idea if she doesn’t look exactly like you.”

“Good point,” Tony said. “Besides, if she looked like me she’d have to grow a beard, cut and dye her hair and I don’t think Natasha would approve of that.”

Pepper snorted her pop and started coughing.

Rhodey burst into laughter and slapped the table. “That’s it – that’s her next Halloween costume right there.”

“You’re a jerk,” Pepper rasped.

“But I’m _your_ jerk,” Tony said with a smirk.

Pepper glared at Tony through watery eyes. “Tony Stark, I swear to god I’m going to smack you when I can breathe properly again.”

Tony grinned. “Feel free – if you can catch me!” he said. He grabbed his plate and pushed his chair back, tensing as if to run.

Pepper scowled at him. “I could catch you,” she said, primly, “but I’d rather not let my food get cold.”

“Sure,” Tony said, nodding along. “Sure. That’s a good excuse.”

Pepper squinted at Tony and took a bite out of her burger.

“Stop teasing Pepper,” Rhodey said. “And eat your lunch before Barnes makes off with it.”

Tony chuckled and pulled his chair back in. He glanced over at Bucky, wondering if the Bucky had started in on what had been put in front of him and was startled to find that every last crumb had vanished from the plate. Hell, the plate looked a little like it had been licked clean.

Bucky licked his lips and looked between Tony and the lasagne.

“Feed your human,” Pepper said, nudging the lasagne towards Tony with the tip of her finger pressed against the container. “He looks hungry.”

Bucky smiled shyly. He gnawed on his lower lip and continued to watch the food, but didn’t move towards it.

Tony finished off his burger and pushed his plate away. He picked up the serving spoon and wiggled his fingers at Bucky. “Plate,” he said.

Bucky handed his plate over quickly.

Tony picked out the biggest piece of lasagne and scooped it onto Bucky’s plate. He put a few extra burger halves beside the lasagne and set the plate down in front of Bucky. He wondered if there was a reason behind Bucky not reaching for food on his own. Was this Hydra’s doing? If they’d been making Bucky eat nothing but protein drinks over the years, so it made sense that Bucky wasn’t immediately reaching for food.

Bucky looked down at the plate and licked his lips again.

“You’re not in trouble, you know,” Pepper said, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. She held out a fork. “Here. Please don’t eat that with your hands.”

Bucky didn’t hesitate; he took the fork and cut into his lasagne, shoveling it into his mouth as though racing to finish it before someone tried to take it away.

Tony thought about telling him to slow down, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything for fear his words might stop Bucky from eating altogether. He watched idly, making sure not to stare directly at Bucky and popped burger bits into his mouth, savoring the peace and quiet. It was nice to be away from Steve and the cybernetic arm troubles. It was nice to be away from Hydra – it was nice to be _home_.

“So,” Rhodey said, clearing his throat. “Bucky.”

Bucky paused, a forkful of food still in his mouth.

“I have this feeling like Tony hasn’t talked to you about the whole not telling us you were human thing yet,” Rhodey said, clasping his hands on the table in front of him.

Bucky froze like a deer caught in headlights.

“I think you owes us an apology,” Rhodey said.

Pepper nodded. “Yes,” she said.

“Do you know how to bake?” Rhodey asked.

Bucky slowly lowered his fork and swallowed hard. “No,” he said.

“Alright,” Rhodey said. “Then you’re going to learn.”

“Yes,” Pepper said, nodding firmly. “Apology cake is an acceptable form of punishment.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side and glanced over at Tony.

“Aww, come on, guys,” Tony said. “Really? You’re going to force him to bake you cake?”

“He lied to us and we want cake,” Rhodey said with a shrug. “Seems fitting.”

“Ok,” Bucky said.

Tony blinked slowly. “Really?”

“I used to bake, I think,” Bucky said, putting his fork down in the remains of his lasagne. “I remember making bread – back before I was the Asset. I think I can do it.”

“There’s no rush,” Pepper said, smiling softly at Bucky. “You can make it whenever you feel up to it.”

“But it’ll have to arrive _eventually_ ,” Rhodey said.

Bucky turned to Tony. “Is that – does that make up for it with you too?”

Tony frowned.

Bucky went rigid in the wheelchair.

“I don’t know,” Tony said, quickly, noticing the look of growing fear on Bucky’s face. He grinned, hoping that would help explain that he was just kidding and not trying to cause trouble. “Cake and _ice cream_ sounds even better.”

“I don’t have money,” Bucky said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh that’s ok,” Tony said. “I’ll give you money. All you need to do is go walk to the store with me and so we can pick it up. Or – or we can go out to a restaurant and having fancy ice cream there and have cake at home.”

“Gelato?” Pepper said. “That’s a good idea.”

Bucky glanced between Pepper and Tony. “I don’t understand. How does you paying for ice cream help me make up for things?”

“It’s the thought that counts,” Rhodey said solemnly, leaning against the table. “Seriously. You’re forgiven – he’s just looking for an excuse to drag you out and make you eat expensive food.”

“Tony doesn’t like going out alone,” Pepper said, winking at Bucky. “I guess that means you’ll have to keep him company.”

“Me?” Bucky said.

“Yep,” Rhodey said.

“But aren’t you two coming too?” Bucky asked.

“Maybe,” Pepper said, looking over at Rhodey.

Rhodey nodded, looking over at Pepper. “ _Maybe_.”

Tony scowled. “You two are being weird.”

“We’re always weird,” Rhodey said with a snort.

“They could go out for dinner first,” Pepper said, ignoring Tony completely.

“Bucky’ll probably enjoy that,” Rhodey said, grinning at Pepper. “He can have his own plate this time, instead of sneaking scraps.”

“What are you two planning?” Tony said, squinting at his friends. “Are you planning evil? What’s going on?”

“What’s so evil about encouraging two friends to go eat dinner together?” Rhodey said, smiling innocently.

Bucky looked over at Tony, looking more confused than ever.

“Don’t worry,” Tony said with a sigh. “They’re being weird because they like you – that’s what they do.”

“Am I still making cake?” Bucky asked.

“Yes,” Pepper said. “Cake is the required sacrifice for forgiveness.”

Bucky smiled nervously. “Alright,” he said. “Any preferences?”

“No strawberries,” Rhodey said. “Pepper’s allergic to them and apology cakes are not supposed to kill the person you’re apologising to, even if it happens accidentally.”

“Right,” Bucky said, nodding vigorously. “Anything else I should know?”

“We will eat pretty much everything,” Pepper said. “Even if it’s burnt.” She stared blatantly at Tony. “Even if it’s really, _really_ burnt.”

“That happened once!” Tony grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I covered the burnt parts with icing – it was fine!”

“Uh huh,” Rhodey said. “Sure. Tasted absolutely fine – once we got past the whole hint of charcoal part.”

“Blatant lies!” Tony said.

Pepper hid her smile behind her hand. “Not everything can be fixed with a boatload of icing, Tony.”

“You say that now, but just wait – my next apology cake will be covered in _twice_ the icing and you’ll be twice as happy with it,” Tony said.

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. “You’re _planning_ on make them mad at you?”

“It’s an inevitability,” Pepper said, smiling at Bucky. “Friends screw up every once in a while. If it happens, it happens. We make a cake, and we move on. Sometimes the cake sits on the counter for a while, but eventually it all works out.”

“That sounds like a good system,” Bucky said.

“Oh it is,” Rhodey said.

“Is Steve going to make you an apology cake too?” Bucky asked, grinning widely.

“Steve’s going to get his own _special_ punishment,” Pepper said.

“Something bad?” Bucky asked.

“Not something bad-bad. Something _embarrassing-bad_ ,” Rhodey said. “Possibly involving funny t-shirts and or an animal onesie.”

“Ooh – that’s a good one,” Tony said, rubbing his hands together. He could always trust Rhodey and Pepper to come up with the best punishments – the ones that wouldn’t hurt too badly. “I’m assuming this will happen after he gets the talk, right?”

“ _Definitely_ after the talk,” Pepper said.

“This was _your_ talk, by the way,” Rhodey said, nodding to Bucky.

“It was?” Bucky said.

“It was,” Pepper said. “Although I still kind of want to flick you in the ear for biting me so many times when you were a cat.”

Bucky looked down at the table guiltily.

“Apology cake fixes all, Barnes,” Rhodey said. “Relax.”

Pepper pushed her chair back and stood up, stretching out; she went up on the tips of her toes and did a graceful spin as she snatched up her empty plate and carried it over to the sink. “You two should go take a nap,” Pepper said, yawning into her hand.

“A nap does sound good right about now,” Rhodey said.

Tony pursed his lips. “We’re adults – we don’t need naps,” he said.

Pepper laughed and walked away. “You keep telling yourself that,” she called over her shoulder.

Rhodey chuckled. “Go take a nap. I’ll take care of this mess,” he said. “If I catch you in your workshop again in the next, let’s say – three hours? – I will drag you up here and make you take a nap.”

Tony sighed and stood up, pushing his chair back. “You’re so cruel, Rhodey. Making me nap and not clean up the lunch dishes.”

“You’re cleaning the dinner dishes,” Rhodey said, rolling his eyes.

“Aww,” Tony said with a whine. “You’re worse than _cruel_. Thor and Steve might be up here by then – that’s a fuckton of dishes!”

“Go to sleep, jerk,” Rhodey said.

Tony wrapped his arms around his middle. “Fine. I’ll take your nap, but I’m not going to like it.”

“Bullshit,” Rhodey said with a snort. “And while you’re at it, take Bucky with you.”

“Oh?” Tony drawled, waggling his eyebrows at Rhodey. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means go sleep, you giant asshole,” Rhodey grumbled. He flapped a hand at Tony. “Now get out of my sight before I change my mind and make you go do the dishes while _I_ nap.”

Tony grabbed the handlebars on Bucky’s wheelchair and pulled him away from the table. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand,” he said, turning Bucky in a slow circle.

Bucky grinned up at Tony. “You sure?”

“A nap with my favourite guy?” Tony grinned back. “What could be better?”

 

 

Tony watched as Bucky snored into his pillow. He was torn between nodding off and staying awake just so he could watch Bucky sleep. It worried him that Bucky hadn’t protested coming back to his room, and while he loved that Bucky seemed happy to go anywhere with him, a voice in the back of his head muttered that there was something wrong, that Bucky being here and liking him had happened for a bad reason. He knew the voice in his head was probably full of shit, but it was hard to ignore, and it sounded an awful lot like Howard Stark; he didn’t like that voice one bit.

Bucky had been trapped with Tony almost every hour of the day as a cat. Was it possible that Bucky had Stockholm Syndrome? Did Bucky _actually_ want to be here? Or was he here because he felt he had to be? Tony let out a long, slow, breath through his nose. He hated how easy it was for his mind to ruin a perfectly good moment.

Maybe it would be better if he put some distance in between them. A _little_ bit of distance – not anything big. Nothing _massive_. He could give Bucky one of the floors he had saved up in case they ever ended up with another Avenger – that would be good way to work things out. Then Bucky would have a place to go when he wanted to have some quiet time. He would have to order in some new furnishings so the place wouldn’t end up generic and unfriendly but he could pull that off pretty easily. He debated on whether calling Pepper first would be the best course of action and then decided to go with his gut feeling – Bucky would love having a place of his own.

 

Tony woke to the notification that his orders had been delivered and set up in Bucky’s new room as requested. He grinned to himself, pleased that things had gone so well. Now all he had to do was get Bucky down there so he could see his genius in action.

Bucky let out a long, chainsaw-like snore.

Tony closed his eyes. A few more hours of sleep couldn’t hurt.

 

 

Tony wheeled Bucky into the elevator, practically vibrating with excitement. Bucky was slumped in his wheelchair, still rumpled with sleep, amused by Tony’s excitement.

“Where are we going?” Bucky asked, rubbing his eyes one at a time with his hand.

“It’s a surprise,” Tony said.

The elevator descended.

“A surprise,” Bucky said, humming softly to himself.

The elevator doors opened; Tony wheeled Bucky into his new apartment, grinning widely.

“This is your new place,” Tony said. “I know – it’s probably not completely ‘you’ yet, but we can change as much of it or as little as you want.”

Bucky stared blankly at the living room around him, his expression going flat.

“So, your bedroom is here,” Tony said, stepping out from behind the wheelchair. He gestured to the hallway that led down to Bucky’s bedroom and a large ensuite bathroom. He had picked one of the biggest spare floors on hand, and had filled it with every last thing he could think of; Jarvis had helped with everything he hadn’t been able to come up with. All of the cupboards were stocked – all of the closets were filled with sheets and blankets and everything else a person could ever want or need. The bathroom was filled with fancy shampoos and soaps and there were toothbrushes, brushes and even an electric razor waiting to be used.

“Now,” Tony said. “I asked them to install a TV – hopefully this one is big enough.” He walked over to the eighty inch TV mounted to the wall and pursed his lips at it. Was it too big? Too small? He wasn’t sure – he hadn’t really stopped to think about it. The TV in the penthouse was a massive hundred and something inch screen and it seemed alright – or at least, no one had complained to him about it being too small. He was going to have to start taking polls – asking the Avengers what they thought – because not knowing was going to gnaw at him now, he could just feel it.

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

“Not now, Jarvis,” Tony said. He scanned the room again. “So I got you a big couch, and there are a bunch of books to look at – digital as well as physical, because I know Cap liked having both around so I figured you’d like both too. There are some recipe books and a little bit of everything else – let me know if there’s anything you don’t like and I’ll get rid of it. Donate it somewhere – I’m sure I can find a public library or someone who will want it.”

“Sir,” Jarvis said.

“What?” Tony said in exasperation.

“Mr. Barnes appears to be leaving,” Jarvis said.

Tony blinked slowly and turned around.

The elevator doors snapped shut; all he could see was a blur as Bucky hammered at a call button inside the elevator, and then he was gone, wheelchair and all.

Tony’s gut twisted. “What just happened?”

“I am unsure sir,” Jarvis said. “My cameras show that Mr. Barnes grew increasingly distraught the more you talked about his new apartment. I do not understand why he chose to leave, but judging by his current expressions and the fact that he has exited the elevator at Captain Rogers’ floor, I believe he does not wish to be disturbed.”

“I fucked up?” Tony said, his voice small. “But how? I didn’t – did I get something wrong? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know sir,” Jarvis said, apologetically. “Perhaps something here made him uncomfortable?”

“But what – what could it – I didn’t – I purposely avoided putting too much in here that could scare him. I stuck with all the plain choices – I didn’t give him a chandelier, I didn’t give him a water bed – I don’t get it,” Tony rasped. He tugged at his fingers, looking around the room, suddenly sure that he might see something Hydra related buried amidst the cream and beige coloured furnishings, but there was nothing there – nothing of note to see aside from a few framed pictures of Captain America and the Howling Commandos.

“Should I go get him?” Tony asked.

“Captain Rogers and Mr. Barnes are currently talking,” Jarvis said.

“Ok – should I go down there?” Tony asked. “I should probably go down there.”

“Mr. Barnes has requested that you not be admitted to Captain Rogers’ floor,” Jarvis said.

Tony’s hands dropped limply to his sides. “Oh,” he said.

“I am sorry sir,” Jarvis said. “Perhaps you should go up to the penthouse in case Mr. Barnes returns?”

“Yeah,” Tony mumbled, heading into the elevator. “Ok. Right – Pepper and Rhodey will know what to do.” He stepped inside, pressing the penthouse button for lack of anything else to do and waited for the elevator to take him home.

 

 

Three days later, Tony was still just as lost and confused by what had happened on Bucky’s floor as ever. Pepper and Rhodey had tried to help – they had gone down to speak with Steve, and come back with no new news. Steve had been pleasant, but hadn’t offered them much other than that Bucky was unhappy.

Tony retreated to his workshop, unsure of how to fix things. He wanted to go down to see Bucky, but from what Pepper and Rhodey had told him, Bucky probably wasn’t going to listen, even if Tony did manage to get past Steve’s bulk. Sighing, exhausted by his failure, Tony plunked away at Bucky’s arm, putting a version of it into production, one that looked like Bucky’s old arm – complete with the red star on the shoulder. He saved the project details, nit-picking at them as the arm was being created behind him. He looked up when Steve knocked on the workshop door and wondered idly how long he had been working. When he checked Extremis, he found that he had been up for approximately sixty eight hours. Pepper and Rhodey were going to kill him.

“Let him in, Jarvis,” Tony said. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and grimaced when he realised he had just smeared grease all over himself. “What’s up, Cap?” he asked, trying for nonchalance.

Steve was wearing a grey sweat shirt and a pair of black sweat pants; his hair was still wet from the shower, and he looked like someone had made him eat a crate of lemons. “Tony,” he said.

“Steve,” Tony said.

“What’s going on with you and Bucky?” Steve asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

Tony stared blankly at Steve. “Uh, I was kind of hoping you could tell me that,” he said.

Steve deflated, going from stern task-master to confused teddy bear in a split second. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” he said. “He hasn’t talked to me since he showed up at my floor.”

Tony pushed a rolling chair over to Steve.

Steve sat. “So you don’t know what’s going on _either_?” He hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Nope. Not a clue. One second I was showing him around his new apartment, and the next he was wheeling his way into the elevator and gone,” Tony said. He sighed and shook his head. “I’m pretty sure I fucked up something, but I don’t know what.”

“Great,” Steve said with a groan, putting his head in his hands. “I was hoping you’d have an answer – even if it was one I wasn’t going to like.”

“Believe me,” Tony said, “I wish I did. Then I could make him a damn apology cake and sort this whole mess out.”

Steve dropped his hands into his lap and smiled. “Apology cake?”

“It’s a thing Pepper, Rhodey and I do,” Tony said with a shrug. He leaned against his worktable, huffing out a laugh. “That’s one of the things we talked about the last time he was still speaking to me – you know? Pep and Rhodey told him that in order to win our forgiveness he’d need to bake us an apology cake and then everything would be fine. We talked about dinner too – taking him out get gelato. Do you think it was that? Maybe he didn’t really want to go out to eat.”

“I don’t think it’s that,” Steve said. He scowled. “I’m a little jealous.”

“Of what?” Tony said, sitting a little taller in his chair so he could stare at Steve, curious.

“You guys gave him a better way to apologise,” Steve said, pursing his lips.

“HA!” Tony said, pointing at Steve. “You think it’s _easier_.”

“Making an apology cake is harder than having to have an actual discussion?” Steve asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Apology cake _way_ harder,” Tony said. “For one, you can’t _burn_ words.”

“True,” Steve said with a laugh.

“Besides,” Tony said, scuffing his foot against the floor. “I don’t think anyone wanted to be hard on him after what happened – after Rumlow and Hydra had their way.” He shrugged. “I know I was fine with letting everything drop – I mean, he saw me buck-ass nude and in my slinkiest underwear – I’m pretty sure that was worse for him than it was for me.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose. “He saw you naked?”

“Hey,” Tony said with a growl, glaring at Steve, “I thought I had a _cat_ on my hands – not your best friend. I tend to walk around naked when I don’t think anyone cares about what they see.”

“Right,” Steve said, clearing his throat. The sides of his neck were getting pinker and pinker with each passing second.

“Oh please,” Tony said with a snort. “It’s not like _you’ve_ never been naked before in your own apartment. I’m sure you and your war-buddies saw each other naked all the time.”

Steve smiled nervously. “So what do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said. He glanced over his shoulder at the production line where his assembly bots were busy working. “I don’t know if I should wait on installing his new arm or not.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

“Well, if he’s not willing to even talk to me, I don’t see how me putting his arm back on is going to be a pleasant experience for him,” Tony said softly. He shifted in his seat. It stung to say the words out loud, but he had known this talk was coming at some point. If Steve hadn’t shown up in the workshop, he would have had to go find him. It wasn’t fair to leave Bucky without an arm – not when there was one waiting for use. They might be having a disagreement – or whatever it was they were having – but that didn’t mean he wanted to deprive Bucky of freedom. “You know what – maybe it’s better if I show you how to install the arm,” Tony said.

Steve grimaced. “Are you sure you want to do that? Isn’t it complicated?”

“Do you have a way to get him down here without forcing him?” Tony asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Steve slumped in his chair. “No,” he said. “He’s been keeping his bedroom door shut. I’ve had Jarvis look in on him to make sure he’s ok – I didn’t want to pry – and I know he’s been eating because food keeps disappearing from the kitchen, so I’m trying not worry – yet.”

Tony smiled bitterly down at his hands. He had known things were bad, but he hadn’t realized just  _ how _ bad. Bucky wasn’t even opening his bedroom door? Fuck. Why did he always have to fuck things up with people? All he had been trying to do was show Bucky that there was a place he could go when he got sick and tired of hanging around with him, and it had, as usual, blown up in his face. Maybe there was a reason why his relationships never lasted long; maybe it was him that was the problem. He cleared his throat and hoped that Steve couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “Jarvis, bring up a holographic representation of the cybernetic arm,” he said. “Let’s teach Steve how to install it.”

“You really don’t have to do this,” Steve said. “I’ll talk to him – We’ll sort things out – you’ll see.”

“I don’t want to him to hate me,” Tony said, softly. “Just – just let me explain everything and he can decide what he wants to do.”

“Alright,” Steve said, heaving a sigh. “Show me everything.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you spot anything weird and I'll fix it! : )


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misunderstandings were the bane of Tony's existence but having them cleared up made him want to hug anyone in sight.

Tony stared at the blueprints for Bucky’s cybernetic arm morosely, wondering if he should have done more with it. He had sent Steve away fifteen minutes ago, and now that his work was done – all explanations finished, and the arm itself sitting at the end of the production line, completed– he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was exhausted, drained of energy and brain power, but he didn’t want to even _think_ about sleep until he knew what Bucky’s response was going to be to the arm installation offer. It was going to be hard to stay awake. There was nothing interesting in his workshop anymore, nothing left to work on now that Bucky’s arm was complete, so he was stuck with his thoughts – and he didn’t like what was bouncing around in his head. He thought about his future without Bucky every time he blinked; he thought about the future he could have with Bucky too, but it felt too much like a dream. Mostly, he wondered what it would be like going back to living alone after having Bucky around for so long – as a cat, and human. He had Pepper, and Rhodey, but Rhodey would go home eventually and Pepper had Natasha. Soon, he would be alone for real and he wasn’t so sure he could handle that.

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

“Yes?” Tony said with a groan. He put his head in his hands. Why did he always have to fuck things up? Maybe his father was right – maybe he was a useless piece of garbage after all.

“Mr. Barnes is requesting entrance to your workshop,” Jarvis said.

Tony didn’t look up. Clearly he had nodded off while upright. “Let him in,” he mumbled.

“Mr. Barnes appears to be angry, sir,” Jarvis cautioned.

“Let him in,” Tony repeated. Maybe he wasn’t dreaming after all. He lifted his head and tried to blink back sleep, but it was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open.

The elevator dinged; the doors opened. Bucky wheeled out of the elevator in his wheelchair, moving fast for a man with only one arm. He propelled himself across the room, his teeth gritted, and stopped in front of Tony. His eyes were red-rimmed and his face pale. His hair hung in front of his face in greasy strings, and his good hand was clenched the padding of his wheelchair’s armrest, his knuckles white from the strength of his grip.

Tony slumped in his chair and fought to keep his eyes open, cursing his exhaustion. Of all the times to lose energy, of course it would be now.

“You said you weren’t _angry_ ,” Bucky said, his voice so soft, Tony might not have been able to pick it up if he hadn’t had Extremis enhancing his hearing. “You said you weren’t angry!”

“I’m not,” Tony mumbled.

“Then why did you try and send me to that floor?” Bucky asked, his voice laced with anguish. He banged his hand on the armrest. “You said you weren’t angry!”

“I’m not angry,” Tony said, forcing himself to sit up as straight as he could. He gave his head a shake trying to clear the cobwebs. “I’m not mad at you, sweetheart. Why would you even think that?”

“You told Steve that he could install my arm,” Bucky said, his voice flat.

Tony stared blankly at Bucky. “I don’t understand. Is that bad?”

“You said you weren’t angry – so why aren’t you going to install my arm yourself?” Bucky asked, plaintively, his voice breaking.

Tony rubbed his face with his hands, giving his head a shake again. “I’m definitely not angry,” he said.

“Then why don’t you want me around?” Bucky asked.

“I want you around! Oh _fuck_ – I didn’t send you away – god no. I wouldn’t do that – I wouldn’t _ever_ do that! I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to come down here to me if you didn’t want to,” Tony said, horrified by what Bucky had thought. Holy fuck – how had he been so blind? How had he not seen what had happened? He felt like such an asshole!

Bucky froze. “What? Why wouldn’t I want to see you?”

“You’ve been holed up in Steve’s guest room for _three days_ , Bucky,” Tony said. “I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

“I want to see you – I _always_ want to see you,” Bucky said, wheeling his chair closer. His knees bumped against Tony’s. “I just – I didn’t understand why you wanted me to be alone in that place. I thought you were mad at me – I couldn’t understand why you’d send me there if you weren’t angry.”

“I think we’ve had some kind of massive miscommunication here,” Tony said, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. He reached out tentatively and put his hand on top of Bucky’s. “This started with the apartment I gave you,” he said. “I think we had different things in mind when it came to what that meant.”

“What?” Bucky asked. He turned his hand and curled his fingers, intertwining them with Tony’s.

“I wanted to give you space – a place to go when you got sick of me,” Tony said, swallowing hard. “I wanted you to be able to make a choice about sticking around – so you didn’t have to feel obligated to stay with me just because you spent time with me when you were a cat.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “That’s why you – Oh. _Fuck_.” He looked down at their hands.

“Use words, Bucky, please,” Tony said, his voice strained.

Bucky looked up. His eyes were watery, but he was smiling, and the sight warmed Tony’s heart. “I keep forgetting you’re not part of Hydra,” Bucky said.

Tony winced. “Oh,” he said. “ _Great_.” So much for his heart feeling better. Now his ribs felt like they were being crushed in a vice. Just when he had thought he had fixed things, he had fucked them up _again_.

“Not like _that_ ,” Bucky said quickly, squeezing Tony’s hand to keep him from pulling away. “I just – I mix things up sometimes, alright? My memories are all muddled.” He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t remember a lot of what happened before, when I wasn’t the Winter Soldier. I know some things. I know I lived with Steve at some point – that we knew each other as kids and that we both had families who loved us. I know that we were friends, and I remember falling – falling from that goddamned train while Steve watched, but that’s it. I don’t have all the details. Things come back in flashes from then but there’s no way of calling things up when I want them there. The memories come when they come.” He sighed. “But I remember everything that Hydra did. I remember the rules I had to follow – they never wiped those bits. There are things my handlers used to do to me – things I keep forgetting you have no way of knowing.”

Tony waited, gnawing on his lower lip. There were so many things he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak yet – not until Bucky was ready to offer that to him. For now, he would wait.

Bucky shifted in the wheelchair. “When they got angry, they did things. If I messed up, even if it was something little, they’d send me to this room they had – some specially made place with sound proof walls. It had chairs and a bed in it – but there weren’t any other people in it. No one came in or even knocked on the door. It was empty – you know? It was always _empty_ there,” Bucky said. He was shaking as he spoke, his eyes locked on their hands. “Sometimes they’d make me sit in there for hours. Sometimes it would be for a few minutes while they were trying to talk amongst themselves about a mission they wanted to send me on – but no matter what, I’d always be alone when I was in there. Pierce told me it was for my own good – it was a place where I could think about what I’d done wrong and learn how to do better.”

Tony took in a sharp breath through his nose. He could see now why Bucky hadn’t been happy to have a place of his own. If being alone was a punishment instead of a privilege, it made sense why Bucky had thought he was angry. Being alone – living alone – wasn’t something he would ever want to force on Bucky now that he knew the truth. He squeezed Bucky’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft.

“It’s not your fault,” Bucky said, clearing his throat. “You couldn’t have known. It’s my fault.”

“It’s no one’s fault,” Tony said, firmly. “I should have talked to you about it first.” He stood up, unsteady, and leaned against Bucky, pressing their knees together, wanting to bury his face in Bucky’s shoulder. “I wish we’d talked sooner.”

“Me too,” Bucky said. He pulled Tony close, freeing their hands and looped his arm around Tony’s middle so he could pull him in for a hug. “I feel stupid. You’re not the one who put me back in that goddamned freezer after leaving me in that room – you didn’t recreate that room. That was in my head. That’s on them – that’s on Pierce and every other bastard in Hydra.” He exhaled, and shook his head as though it might chase the memories away. “I hate him.”

Tony leaned heavily against Bucky; the wheelchair rolled back an inch as he slipped into Bucky’s lap. He rested his cheek against Bucky’s shoulder and let out a shaky breath. His eye lids felt like they were made of steel and his fight to keep them open was long over. “For the record, I love having you around. I missed you – a lot.”

“I missed you too,” Bucky said.

Tony hummed softly. Bucky was so warm. He had missed this.

“We should go upstairs,” Bucky said, softly. He turned shifted Tony’s weight until Tony was draped over him like a blanket and, once he was sure Tony wasn’t going to roll out of his lap, wheeled them one-armed over to the elevator.

“I can install your arm now if you want,” Tony said, his voice slurred with sleep. It hadn’t been all that long since Extremis had been dormant, and it was still catching up with all the damage Tony had taken while in Rumlow’s care.

“That’s ok, sweetheart. My arm can wait,” Bucky said. The elevator doors opened with a pleasant chime; he rolled the wheelchair inside and smiled up at the ceiling. “Thanks, Jarvis.”

“You are most welcome, sir,” Jarvis said. “Shall I send you up to the penthouse?”

“Yes, please,” Bucky said.

“I only need a few hours to recharge,” Tony mumbled.

“Sure, you do,” Bucky said, chuckling. He smoothed down Tony’s hair as the elevator doors closed. “Let’s get you to bed.”

 

 

Tony woke with Bucky wrapped around him like a blanket. He was warm all over, and the aches and pains of being awake for so long were gone. Not wanting to disturb the serenity in his room, he checked the time with Extremis and found that it was early the next morning. They had been asleep for hours.

“Are you awake?” Bucky asked, his voice gravely with sleep.

“Maybe,” Tony mumbled into Bucky’s chest.

Bucky chuckled; the sound vibrated into Tony’s body.

“Feeling better?” Bucky asked.

“Yes. You?” Tony mumbled.

“Yes,” Bucky said.

“You’re always welcome here, you know that, right?” Tony said.

“I know now,” Bucky said. He rubbed circles on Tony’s back. “I’m sorry I ran off. I should have talked to you.”

“I should have talked to you too,” Tony grumbled, his eyes still squeezed shut. “Maybe that’s what we should do – in case of trouble, talk to each other.”

“Probably a good idea,” Bucky agreed.

Tony groaned and burrowed closer, his nose pressed up against Bucky’s throat. “So I have a question that might make you leave, but I kind of still want to ask it,” he said.

“Is this a good question, or a bad one?” Bucky asked.

“Good – I think,” Tony said.

“Ok,” Bucky said. “Ask away.”

Tony took in deep breath. He didn’t exactly have a lot of experience with dating; he’d done a bit of it, but it had never lasted long, and he had never really been the one asking people out. People had usually just found him when they wanted a quick fuck. It was strange, now that he thought about it, that at the ripe old age of fourty one he was asking someone he liked out for the first time. It was terrifying. He would have put it off just to get rid of the spike of anxiety that shot through him like a bolt of electricity, but he knew that if he did put it off, he would never be able to work up the courage to try again – at least not for a few months and he didn’t want to wait. He cleared his throat. “So, would you be maybe interested in dating someone?”

Bucky hummed softly. “I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t done that kind of thing in a long time.”

Tony grimaced. “So that’s a no?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” Bucky drawled.

Tony smiled. “Me?”

“You?” Bucky stuttered. He sat up and rolled away.

Tony found himself squashed into the mattress, neatly covered in blankets. “Bucky?”

“I – uh – I smell,” Bucky said. He heaved himself off the bed and staggered towards Tony’s bathroom, using the wall to support himself. The bathroom door shut with a slam.

Tony let out a sigh. “I fucked that up, didn’t I,” he said.

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

“Never mind,” Tony said. He closed his eyes. He was used to rejection.

“Tony?”

The bathroom door opened a crack.

“Yes?” Tony said.

“I’ve never – I don’t – I don’t know what dating someone is like anymore,” Bucky said. “I don’t – I don’t think I’d be that great of a date.”

Tony sat up and pushed the blankets off. “I’m not going to push you into something you don’t want,” he said. He grimaced. He knew that if Bucky didn’t want to start something with him, he would have to let him go. He wouldn’t hurt Bucky – he would rather hurt himself first.

“But I _do_ want it,” Bucky grumbled, leaning against the door.

Tony turned to face the bathroom door, grinning so hard his face hurt. “You do?”

Bucky closed the bathroom door quickly.

Tony stared at the bathroom door.

“I stink, ok – just – just let me shower and we’ll talk,” Bucky said with a grunt.

“Buckeroo, I haven’t showered yet either,” Tony said. “Believe me – you are not the only one who smells like a walking armpit.”

Bucky let out a barked laugh; something thudded against the bathroom door.

“Are you ok in there?” Tony asked, getting up.

“I’m fine,” Bucky said. “Just let me shower and we’ll talk, alright?”

“Alright,” Tony said. He cleared his throat. “Need any help in there?”

“Nope,” Bucky said.

Tony chuckled. “Ok, ok.” He pulled open his dresser and rummaged around, getting out fresh clothing. “I’m going to use the communal bathroom’s shower – see you in a bit.”

“Alright,” Bucky said, opening the door a crack again.

“Feel free to loot my closet as much or as little as you want,” Tony called over his shoulder. “FYI, I’m perfectly fine with nudity too.”

“Go shower, jerk,” Bucky said with a laugh.

 

 

Freshly showered and dressed in clothing that didn’t smell like he had run laps in it for days on end, Tony returned to his bedroom. He had purposely dawdled in the shower, taking his sweet time as he scrubbed himself clean. There was nothing sexy about smelling like a gym bag and while he could have rushed through and achieved the same results, he hadn’t wanted to rush Bucky.

Bucky, however, hadn’t had the same idea in mind. He was sitting on Tony’s bed wearing a t-shirt and shorts stolen from Tony’s closet; the shirt barely fit, and the shorts were a little on the tight side, but he didn’t seem to mind. He seemed relieved to see Tony.

“I didn’t think you were coming back,” Bucky said, prodding the folded up blanket beside him.

Tony threw himself down onto the bed and sprawled out on his side. “I didn’t want you to think I was going to jump out at you,” he said.

Bucky scowled. “I didn’t think that.”

“Good,” Tony said. “So what do you want to do now?”

“Do we have to talk?” Bucky asked. He looked nervous, and the way he was prodding the blankets made it seem like he was thinking about holding onto them for dear life.

“We can talk whenever you want,” Tony said. “No rush. Seriously – just knowing that you’re interested is enough.”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really,” Tony said. “I’m not going anywhere – there’s absolutely no rush. I mean, I’d prefer to talk about it before I keel over from old age, but if that’s how long you want to wait I’ll be more than happy to stick it out.”

Bucky smiled. “I don’t think you’ll need to wait that long.”

“Good,” Tony said. “So – shall we head down to my workshop and get you a nice, _shiny_ new arm?”

Bucky sighed. “I guess,” he said. “I’ll put up with that burden as long as you haven’t painted the damn thing red and gold.”

Tony squinted at Bucky. “What blasphemy is this?”

Bucky let out a snorted laugh. “Pepper was right – you really do love red and gold.”

Tony scowled. “Rude – Pepper is a horrible person,” he said, shaking his head. He rolled closer to the edge of the bed and sat up, wiggling his toes as he stretched. “Fine. We’ll go install your boring not-red-and-gold arm.”

“Alright,” Bucky said. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, looking around for his wheelchair.

Tony quickly swooped in, wrapping an arm around Bucky’s waist. “Careful,” he said.

“I’m not a toddler,” Bucky muttered, leaning into Tony’s touch. He allowed himself to be settled into the wheelchair and smirked to himself as Tony pushed him out of the bedroom.

“What’s that smirk for,” Tony said, suspicious. He wheeled Bucky through the penthouse to the elevator.

“Nothing,” Bucky said with an even wider grin.

“Why do I get the feeling like you’re thinking evil thoughts?” Tony said.

Bucky batted his eyelashes at Tony. “Is it wrong that I like you pushing little old me around wherever I want to go?”

Tony smiled.

“I should break my leg more often,” Bucky cackled.

“Please don’t,” Tony said with a sigh. “My heart can only handle so much.”

 

 

Tony wheeled Bucky across his workshop and over to his worktable. “Alright – Let’s do this,” he said, looking around for the special set of tools he needed – ones that were sterilized. He wasn’t going to take any risks when it came to Bucky, or anyone else for that matter. Things that needed to be attached to a living organism always had the risk of infection or injury, and he wasn’t going to let that happen.

Dummy chirped happily and rolled over to Bucky, apparently delighted to see him despite the last time they had met.

Bucky tensed.

Dummy chirped sadly; his arm drooped until his hand was touching his base.

“Aww, what’s wrong, buddy?” Tony said to the bot. He pulled the sterilized toolkit from its place under his desk and cracked the case open.

“I don’t think he likes me,” Bucky said, side-eyeing Dummy.

“Well,” Tony said, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. “You did try and beat the shit out of him as a cat.”

Bucky went beet red. “I thought it was attacking you!”

“I’m flattered you felt I was worth protecting,” Tony said, chuckling. “That’s what you thought he was doing? You thought Dummy was attacking me?”

Bucky fell silent, his lips pressed together in a flat line.

“Bucky?” Tony said. He sat down on a rolling chair and wheeled it forwards until their knees were bumping. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Bucky said, tersely.

“Ok,” Tony said, slowly. “We don’t have to talk about it.” He glanced over at Dummy, who had rolled closer while they were talking. “Do you want me to send him back to his charging station?”

Bucky looked over at Dummy; he sighed wearily and rolled the bottom of his shirt between his fingers. “It’s fine.”

“Are you comfortable with him poking and or prodding you?” Tony asked.

Bucky frowned. “What do you mean?’

“He likes to play catch with his tennis ball,” Tony said, smiling fondly at Dummy. “Sometimes he likes to bring things over to show you – think of him like a five year old made of metal. He means absolutely no harm – he’s just curious.”

Bucky wrinkled his nose. “I thought you made robots that were supposed to be _smart_.”

“I do,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “Dummy was the first one I ever made, so he’s not up to the same standards – he’s a sweetheart, though, and a massive pain in the ass, so watch yourself and don’t drink or eat anything he hands you without checking with someone first. Food poisoning is never fun.”

“He tries to _poison_ you?” Bucky said with a low growl, glaring at Dummy.

The bot let out a distressed beep and rolled backwards, bumping into Tony’s worktable.

“He doesn’t do it on _purpose_ ,” Tony said with a chuckle. “Sometimes he just gets worked up and mixes up the motor oil with fruit. And on one spectacularly bad occasion, the milk with paint but that could happen to anyone.” He shrugged.

“And you still keep him around?” Bucky asked, looking confused.

“Dummy’s a _good boy_ ,” Tony said, patting the bot on the hand with the bare part of his forearm, so he could keep his gloves clean. “Yes, his processors are a little behind the times and he does, on occasion, spray me with a fire extinguisher for no real reason, but he’ll always have a place here with me. Believe me – he’ll grow on you. Eventually.” He stood up and nudged his chair out of the way. He stalked over to where he had left Bucky’s completed arm the night before and let out relieved groan. The arm was still sealed in a clear plastic box to keep the dust out – microscopic as the dust might be – and thankfully he’d had the sense to leave it somewhere he could easily find it. He hoisted the box up and carried it over to his worktable. The arm itself wasn’t the heavy; the box weighed more than the arm did, but it was cumbersome and awkward all the same. He popped the plastic lid open with his thumb, mindful of his gloves, and pulled the arm out.

Bucky watched as Tony lifted the arm up, his body held tense.

Tony flipped the arm over as he gave the arm a quick once-over. He had cleaned it before putting it in the box the night before, but he hated taking risks with technology – especially when it would end up on someone he cared about. He glanced over at Bucky as he felt along the attachment port, wondering if he should stop. Bucky didn’t exactly look excited anymore – hell, he didn’t even look _happy_. The guy was sweating, and had gone paler than a glass of milk.

“You ok?” Tony asked, putting the arm down in the box.

“I’m fine,” Bucky said with a grunt.

“You don’t look fine,” Tony said.

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t like the look of it when its not attached to me,” he said. “It makes me sick to my stomach.”

“I see,” Tony said. He pursed his lips. He didn’t want to push the arm on Bucky if Bucky was nervous – and it was pretty easy to see that the guy was nervous as hell. He leaned his hip against the worktable, pondering his options. It would be easier to do the install if Bucky was sitting in a proper chair, but just the thought of a chair being around – one that could easily be mistaken for the Chair – made _him_ nervous. Maybe working with the wheelchair was a better option after all. At least this way, it wouldn’t be something with bad memories attached to it – he hoped.

“Are you going to install my arm or what?” Bucky said, smiling crookedly. He gripped the arm rest with his hand and held on tight, as though expecting Tony to jump on him and jam the arm in place.

Tony sat down in his rolling chair. “I want to, but first I want to make sure you’re alright with this,” he said.

“I’m fine,” Bucky said.

“Alright,” Tony said. He picked up a disinfectant wipe and moved closer, telegraphing his moves before wiping down the connector port attached to Bucky’s shoulder. “So here’s the plan. I’m going to attach the arm – that’s the easy part – and then I’m going to turn the nerves back on. It might hurt when they kick in, and I’ll need a few seconds to adjust them, so I’ll need you to tell me if something is wrong.”

“Fine,” Bucky said, tersely.

“Bucky – I’m serious,” Tony said, tossing the wipe into the garbage. “If it hurts – if it hurts more than your other arm does, I need you to tell me. I am not putting it on if it’s going to hurt you.”

Bucky slumped against the wheelchair. “I know that,” he said.

“So you’re going to tell me if it hurts?” Tony said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes,” Bucky said.

“If it hurts, I’m going to turn the nerves off immediately, alright?” Tony said.

“I’m not a baby,” Bucky said. “I’m used to pain.”

“I know that,” Tony said, scowling. “But that doesn’t mean you have to suffer.”

Bucky sighed. He released the arm rest and ran his fingers through his hair. “Just do it already.”

Tony picked up the arm and slid his chair around so he was on Bucky’s left side. He lined up the arm with the ports in Bucky’s shoulder and pushed it into place, connecting everything in one smooth move. The arm’s metal plating whirred to life as it sealed the connection ports within itself. There was a chip inside it that controlled the arm’s pain receptors – an unhackable chip, one only Tony could access. He had put as much security in that one chip as he had in his suit; no one was going to use it against Bucky – not if he had anything to say about it.

Bucky grimaced.

“Is it hurting?” Tony asked, gritting his teeth as he pulled up the holographic display he needed to activate the arm’s nerves.

“No,” Bucky said. “It’s just – it’s _weird_ to have it back after so long.” He rolled his shoulders and then lifted the arm up. He marveled at it, his eyes wide and wiggled his fingers.

Tony grinned. “I take it you approve?”

Bucky nodded.

Tony pulled up the pain chip’s access program on his holographic console and paused, his finger hovering just above the holographic button that would activate it. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Bucky said.

Tony hit the button.

Bucky blinked slowly. He wiggled his fingers again and stared down at the arm.

“How’s the pain?” Tony asked, his finger poised above the slider that would adjust the pain response levels. If it was too much, Bucky might black out and he didn’t want that to happen. He watched Bucky carefully for signs of distress, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Some of the colour was returning to Bucky’s cheeks.

“Its fine,” Bucky said with a shrug. “Doesn’t feel that bad.”

Tony frowned. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, Tony. I mean, it feels the same as the one I used to have before,” Bucky said, curling his fingers into a fist and releasing them again, “but it’s nothing like what it was before. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“It feels the same as the other arm, but nothing like it was before – ok, so clearly I need to drop the pain response down,” Tony said, moving the slider. “How’s that?”

“Good,” Bucky said. He grinned widely. “Really _good_.”

Tony slumped in his chair for a moment, pleased that the first half of the arm’s installation had gone so well. Part of him had been expecting chaos – possibly with explosions, sparks and screaming – and it was so, _so_ , reassuring to see that the Bucky’s arm’s original attributes and calculations had been easily transferred over to the new arm without causing any issues. Of course, he hadn’t seen Bucky _touch_ anything yet, so it was entirely possible the guy could crush something with his hand by accident, but they would get there eventually. And at least Bucky didn’t look like he was going to pass out anymore. That was a good sign.

“You ok, Stark?” Bucky said grinning.

“I’m good,” Tony said, weakly punching the air. “Yay for no explosions!”

“You were _expecting_ them?” Bucky asked, with a laugh.

“No, but I always plan for the _possibility_ of explosions,” Tony said. “Why do you think Dummy’s over here?”

Dummy whirred appreciatively and rolled closer to Tony.

“All I had to do was _think_ that something could burst into flames and he came running,” Tony said with a laugh. He peeled his gloves off and tossed them into the trash.

“Are you done now?” Bucky asked. “With the install, I mean.”

“The arm’s got all the original baselines in it,” Tony said. “So do me a favor – if you were breaking things with your hand before, please don’t test it out on my fleshy body.”

Bucky smirked. “That arm hurt like hell, but the eggheads made sure the motor control was perfect,” he said. “They didn’t like the possibility of me accidentally crushing something – or someone – important.”

“I see,” Tony said.

Bucky reached out with his cybernetic hand and delicately poked Tony in the knee. The intense look of concentration on his face made him look almost like the cat he had once been.

Tony smiled.

Bucky looked up, his eyes wide, grinning from ear to ear. “That worked,” he said, his voice breathy.

“Yes it did,” Tony said.

Bucky wheeled Tony closer with his cybernetic hand still on Tony’s knee. He seized the front of Tony’s shirt with his flesh-and-blood hand and kissed him.

Tony floundered, lost in the feeling of Bucky’s lips on his. He slid forwards, ignoring the way his chair rolled backwards and found himself in Bucky’s lap, his fingers digging into Bucky’s shirt. The scratch of Bucky’s scruffy facial hair was different, something he’d never encountered before; he liked it.

Bucky gasped as they broke apart for air. His cybernetic hand slid up Tony’s leg and onto Tony’s waist, settling there comfortably. He stroked the side of Tony’s face with his flesh-and-blood hand, still grinning, and paused to run his fingers over Tony’s goatee.

“You know,” Tony said, his voice cracking, “for a guy who says he doesn’t know how to date anymore, you’re doing pretty well.”

“Yeah?” Bucky said.

“Definitely,” Tony said, kissing Bucky.

 

 

Tony woke up to the sound of soft snores. He and Bucky touched each other as much as possible as they kissed until they had both felt lightheaded and giddy; they had moved to the couch in the corner of Tony’s workshop afterwards, and collapsed there, tangled together, grinning and breathless. Tony hadn’t expected to fall asleep so quickly after getting up that morning, but apparently making up with Bucky and then getting together with him had been more than his brain could handle. He rolled slightly, turning so he could look at Bucky.

Bucky had his arm around Tony’s middle and Tony’s roll had managed to make his nose press into Tony’s hair. His broken leg was slung over top of Tony’s, and his hair was sticking up on one side from the way he had fallen asleep.

Tony smiled. He felt at peace, trapped here under Bucky’s bulk.

“Sir?” Jarvis said, hesitantly.

“Yes?” Tony mumbled. He really didn’t want to get up – not with Bucky curled up against him.

“Ms. Potts and Colonel Rhodes are requesting that you come upstairs for dinner,” Jarvis said.

“Dinner?” Tony said, opening his eyes. “Shit – how long have we been sleeping?”

Bucky opened one eye. “What’s going on?”

“We slept through lunch,” Tony mumbled into Bucky’s chest.

“Oh,” Bucky said, closing his eye. “Is that all? Who cares about lunch?”

“Ms. Potts has informed me that Captain Rogers is upstairs in the penthouse waiting to present his apology,” Jarvis said.

Tony let out a snort so loud it hurt. “You’re kidding,” he said.

“I’m afraid not, sir,” Jarvis said. “He appears to have prepared extensively.”

“Is he nervous?” Tony asked. It was amusing to think that Steve had devoted so much time to crafting the perfect apology.

“He appears to be confident,” Jarvis said. “Although, if I may say, sir, I believe he appears quite pleased at the moment.”

“With himself?” Tony asked with a chuckle.

“I am unsure,” Jarvis said. “I have been asked by Doctor Banner to tell Mr. Barnes to come to his floor before dinner, as well, sir. He wishes to do a physical examination of Mr. Barnes to determine his healing rate and to check up on Mr. Barnes’ injuries.”

Tony scowled. “Now? _Really_?”

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis said. “I believe it would be wise not to keep him waiting.”

“Damn it,” Tony said. He sat up slowly, taking as much time as possible to move away from Bucky. He knew making Bruce wait was an idiotic decision, even if Bruce did have perfect control of his anger, but he couldn’t help lingering. He didn’t want to leave Bucky’s warmth – he didn’t want Bucky to stop touching him.

“Do we have to go up there?” Bucky asked, his voice low. “I don’t think I can stop touching you now that I’ve started.” He pressed a kiss to Tony’s shoulder and sank his teeth into Tony’s shirt.

Tony shuddered. “ _Fuck_ , Bucky,” he murmured, carding his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “You’re making this hard.”

“I’m making _something_ hard,” Bucky said with a growl. “That’s for sure.”

“Sirs,” Jarvis said, sounding weary. “May I remind you that Ms. Potts is waiting for you?”

“I _know_ ,” Tony said with a sigh. He wrapped his arms around Bucky and kissed him again before pulling away. “Come on, sweetheart. We’d better get moving or there’s going to be a Hulk sized hole in my ceiling.”

Bucky groaned and combed back his bangs with his cybernetic hand. When he realized what he had done, he grinned to himself. “Well, at least something will be different when I see him this time,” he said. He wiggled his fingers. “I still can’t believe how natural this feels.”

“I’m glad the arm worked out so well,” Tony said. He found Bucky’s wheelchair beside the couch where they had knocked it over and left it before their nap and set it upright, rolling it over to Bucky. “Your chariot awaits.”

Bucky smiled crookedly.

 

 

Tony wanted to follow Bucky to Bruce’s lab, but after Jarvis relayed Pepper’s fifth summons, he decided against it and simply dropped Bucky off after a lingering kiss. He stepped out at the penthouse, strutting into the kitchen and realized that he and Bucky hadn’t exactly talked about whether they were telling anyone about getting together. He knew that Rhodey and Pepper knew about his crush – or at least he suspected they knew even though he hadn’t exactly talked with either of them about it directly aside from the mention of having a crush on Bucky in the past – but he wasn’t so sure if they knew his feelings had been reciprocated. They must have noticed. It was one thing, after all, to be cuddly with a cat and entirely another thing to be cuddly with another person. He wondered if he had been a little too obvious about his feelings. He and Bucky had slept together in the same bed the first night Bucky had come home, and the others had to have noticed _that_. Natasha sure as hell would have spotted it.

Pepper looked up from her tablet. She and Rhodey were seated along the table with Natasha on Pepper’s left; Clint was sitting across from Rhodey. Steve was in the kitchen, _cooking_. It took Tony a second to realize just what Steve was doing.

“Did he spend all day cooking a _turkey_?” Tony asked. “Did I miss thanksgiving?”

“Thanksgiving isn’t for another month and a half,” Pepper said, setting her tablet down. She turned in her chair to smirk at Rhodey. “Steve’s paying penance by cooking us dinner and then giving us his apology speech.”

“Dinner and a show?” Tony mock gasped. “Oh boy.”

Steve turned around and smiled. “Glad you like the idea,” he said. He frowned when he noticed that Tony was alone. “Where’s Bucky?”

“Bruce wanted to take a look at him,” Tony said, dropping into the seat across from Natasha. The empty seat behind him would be Bucky’s when he arrived; it would be better if Bucky didn’t have to make constant eye contact with Natasha considering the way things had gone the last time the two had been in the same room.

“I see,” Steve said. “How did the arm install go?”

“No one ran screaming from the room and the fire extinguisher was nowhere to be seen,” Tony said with a shrug.

“That’s good,” Steve said. He stirred the pot of gravy beside him idly, his gaze still locked on Tony. “I’m glad you two worked things out. He was looking pretty glum there for a while – I’m glad he’s alright again.”

Tony lifted himself up out of his seat, his wrists on the table and stared into the kitchen, glancing around Steve to see everything. There was a lot of food there waiting to be eaten, and none of it was take out. There was a bowl of mashed potatoes, a bowl of candied sweet potatoes, a massive serving bowl of spaghetti and meatballs, a tray of burgers – all cooked to perfection – and a bowl of some kind of dumplings sitting on the counter behind Steve – and that wasn’t the end of the food. Across from Steve, taking up the remaining counter space, was a vast selection of different desserts and a massive pile of fresh dinner buns. There was no way Steve had made all of the food here in the penthouse; there simply weren’t enough burners and Tony couldn’t see a single pile of dishes waiting to be done. Clearly, the Captain had been busy all damn day. Steve must have _really_ wanted to apologize.

“Did you cook all of this yourself?” Tony asked, not sure whether he should be in awe or horrified.

Steve gave the gravy a stir. “Yes, I cooked it all. I made most of it downstairs in my apartment so I wouldn’t leave a mess up here,” he said.

“But – _why_?” Tony said, flabbergasted. “I mean, I like that you cooked because yay, _food_ , but you could have just ordered in, you know?”

“I’m apologising for what happened and I figured I’d do it right,” Steve said. He smiled sheepishly. “I kind of wanted to make sure you guys knew just how sorry I was. I made pretty much everything I could remember you like – and what Pepper and Rhodes likes too.”

“It’s much appreciated,” Rhodey said, nodding at Steve.

“I didn’t want you guys to think I was trying to buy your apology with greasy take out,” Steve continued. He shrugged. “I just hope it tastes good, because I haven’t exactly been cooking all that much recently.”

Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I know the feeling.”

“Everything’s almost finished now though, so we’ll see how it turned out. The turkey’s in the oven keeping warm until the gravy is done and I’ve got a cheesecake down in my apartment I need to bring up still. But that can wait,” Steve said smiling ruefully. “I’m sure we’ve got enough to keep us busy for now.”

“The Captain’s got a supposedly _amazing_ apology waiting for us too,” Pepper drawled.

Tony sat back down and leered at Pepper. “Speaking of apologies, did you get _your_ apology? Was it _satisfying_?”

Pepper went bright red; her expression didn’t change, although her left eye twitched dangerously. “I’m not answering that.”

“I’m thinking that’s a yes,” Rhodey said with a grin.

“I’m thinking that’s a _yes, yes, yes_ ,” Tony said, waggling his eyebrows.

Natasha scowled at Tony. “Stop teasing my girlfriend about our sex life,” she said. “I _will_ stab you even if she loves you like family.”

“We’re not _teasing_ ,” Rhodey said. “We’re just making sure _everyone’s_ apologies were up to par.”

“Exactly,” Tony said. “Steve can’t be the only one in the hot seat.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “You two are such brats sometimes,” she said.

“ _Sometimes_?” Rhodey said with a snort.

Tony chuckled and leaned against the table. “So what’s going on? Where’s the rest of the team? I’m surprised Thor’s not here trying to inhale that turkey.”

“Thor’s still with Jane,” Clint said, “Sadly, he won’t be joining us for Steve’s apology feast.” He lifted his legs to put his feet on the kitchen table and then quickly tucked his legs under the table again. “Sorry. I remember the rules.”

“No feet on the table,” Natasha said, her voice deadly soft.

“I know, I know,” Clint said with an exasperated grunt.

“And yet you _still_ tried to put your feet on the table,” Natasha said, drumming her fingers on the table.

“Since when did you become the _feet police_?” Clint said, scowling at Natasha.

“Since she learned I don’t like people putting their feet where I’m eating dinner,” Pepper said, smiling sweetly at Clint.

“Oh I see how it is. Tony,” Clint said, turning to face Tony as though he was going to get his way somehow by just making eye contact with him, “You’re ok with this _no-feet-on-the-table_ policy Natasha’s instituted?”

“I’m fine with it,” Tony said. “I don’t want your corn-chip feet on my table. I eat here, man. That’s nasty.”

Clint mock gasped. “You’re one of _those_ people, aren’t you – one of those rich jerks who don’t let people put their feet on their tables.”

“You got me,” Tony said. “Don’t tell the paparazzi – I’ve been keeping it a secret.”

“Damn,” Clint grumbled. “You guys are so mean. I don’t know why I live here.”

“Because it’s rent free?” Tony said. “And you can eat as much free food as you want?”

Clint grinned broadly and gave Tony a thumbs up. “That’s definitely part of it.”

“Getting away from feet and rent free living for a second – as priceless as _that_ conversation was,” Pepper said, clearing her throat. “So how did Bucky take having the arm put back on? Was he alright? I know you said the _installation_ went fine, but was _he_ fine?”

“He was _very_ fine,” Tony said, smirking. “As always.”

Rhodey groaned and banged his head on the table.

“What?” Tony said, feigning ignorance. “I’m just answering Pepper’s question.”

“Bullshit,” Rhodey mumbled into the table.

“So you two are – uh,” Pepper paused, tapping her finger against her chin.

“ _Together_?” Tony supplied nervously. His heart fluttered. He wished again that he and Bucky talked a bit more before parting ways in the elevator; he didn’t want to ruin things by blurting something out if Bucky wasn’t ready.

“That’s it,” Pepper said, her eyes twinkling.

“I think I need to talk with him about that,” Tony said, gnawing on his lower lip.

Pepper cocked a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “You need to double check?”

“I need to see if he’s ok with us being together in front of everyone else,” Tony said.

“Oh,” Pepper said. “That’s fair, I suppose. Better to be safe than sorry.”

“Exactly,” Tony said.

“At least now all that goddamned sexual tension will be gone,” Rhodey muttered sitting up. “Thank fuck for that.”

Steve dropped the ladle he had been using to stir the gravy with a clatter.

“You ok over there big guy?” Tony called out.

“I’m fine,” Steve said quickly, scooping up the ladle. “Damn slippery gravy.”

“ _Right_. I’ve heard gravy can be a tricky customer,” Tony said, watching Steve cautiously. Dropping things wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting from Steve – not that he had been expecting the guy to be jumping with joy, of course. Did Steve have a problem with him and Bucky getting together? He hadn’t thought Steve was the kind of guy who would get mad at his friend for dating another guy – could that be it? Or was it that Steve didn’t entirely approve of _Tony_ as a boyfriend choice?

The elevator dinged its arrival; the doors opened. Bucky strode out, cast-free and swaggering, his hair neatly pulled back in a ponytail. His cheeks were flushed and he was grinning broadly. He hadn’t changed his clothes, but he had pulled on a pair of socks, ones he had pilfered from somewhere because Tony didn’t recognize them. He wasn’t walking perfectly, and had a bit of a limp, but he seemed gleeful all the same.

“Hey there,” Tony said, smiling at Bucky. “How did it go?”

Bucky sat down and gave Tony a kiss, shifting his seat until it was closer to Tony’s. “It went fine,” he said. “Doc Banner said the serum in my blood heals me up just a little slower than Steve’s. He’s busy in his lab looking at the samples he took – I don’t think he’s going to come up here for dinner. He seemed really excited.”

Tony grinned, pleased with the kiss; at least now he knew that Bucky wasn’t averse to them being out together in public – or, at least, in front of their friends. “That’s good. So your leg’s fine now?”

“It’s a little sore still, but Banner says its fine to walk on it now that it’s mostly healed up,” Bucky said. He leaned against Tony, settling his arm around Tony’s waist and looked over at Pepper and Rhodey, who were staring at him with open mouths. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Pepper said, smiling tearfully.

Rhodey cleared his throat and wiped at his eyes. “Nothing – it’s nothing,” he muttered. “Stupid jerks.”

Tony grinned and leaned into Bucky’s warmth. “They’re just happy for us,” he said, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cheek.

“Oh – so I see how it is,” Clint grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “You guys can be all sappy and shit but I can’t put my feet on the table.”

Bucky let out a barked laugh and drummed his cybernetic hand’s fingers on the table. “How are those two things even remotely comparable?”

“They just are. Nice gear there, Barnes,” Clint said, squinting at Bucky. “He gets a shiny new arm, but no one else gets anything shiny. _Favouritism_!”

“Yep,” Tony said. “I know it hurts to hear it, but I like him better than you Barton.”

Clint scowled darkly and shook his head. “Are you hearing this Captain?”

“I’m hearing it,” Steve said, his back to them.

“Are you going to do something about it?” Clint asked petulantly.

“Nope,” Steve said, cheerfully, his voice bordering on shrill. He carried the gravy pot over to the counter and ladled the gravy out into a gravy boat. “I’m afraid we’re all going to have to suck it up and live with the fact that Tony loves Bucky more than us.”

“This team _sucks_ ,” Clint said.

“But at least you still get free food,” Steve said, carrying the gravy boat over to the table.

“At least there’s that,” Clint said with a long, suffering sigh.

Tony watched as Steve carried the turkey over to the table. The man looked more delicious than the bird he was carrying. Damn him and his muscles.

Bucky leaned against Tony again, tangling their fingers together under the table. “You ok?”

“Fine,” Tony said, scowling at Steve. “I’ve just never seen Captain America carry a fourty pound turkey before. It’s weirdly sexy – and that disturbs me.”

Bucky looked between Steve and the turkey and chuckled. “I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about.”

Tony snorted. “Dirty liar,” he said, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s lips. He sighed to himself as Steve continued to load the table up with all of the food he had cooked and tried not to drool all over himself from the sight – of the food and Steve. He wanted to kick himself for his ridiculous libido, but he knew that it didn’t mean anything. He was with Bucky, after all – and there was plenty of muscly goodness to be had there.

Bucky smirked and kissed Tony back. “Now seeing him carry a turkey like that when he was younger would have been something,” he said.

“That’s because I’d have been crushed by the turkey,” Steve said, setting plates down in front of Bucky and Tony. The tips of his ears were bright red for some reason. “And I highly doubt Ma would have been able to find a fourty pound turkey back when we were younger. I don’t think she could have found a turkey at all, not one that we could afford at any rate.”

Bucky sighed. “You’re right,” he said. He frowned and pursed his lips, looking down at his plate.

“Something wrong, honey-buns?” Tony asked, squeezing Bucky’s hand.

“I just – I don’t remember something, that’s all,” Bucky said. His brow furrowed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ok,” Tony said.

Steve looked from Bucky to Tony, confused.

“It’s nothing, Cap,” Tony said.

“Alright,” Steve said, looking around anxiously. “Dig in!”

“Carve the turkey, Cap,” Clint said, licking his lips. “I want some of that bird.”

“Sure, Clint,” Steve said with a laugh. He stepped into the kitchen and rummaged around in the cutlery drawer until he came up with a proper knife for the job and a fork. He returned, tackling the bird, and began slicing it up. Every slice was the same thickness; he had perfect portioning even while it seemed like he was barely looking at the turkey. It was impressive but unsurprising considering how good Steve was with his shield and damn near everything else.

Tony picked up his plate and began loading it up with food he thought Bucky might like, trying to move fast so Bucky wouldn’t have to wait. He put a little bit of everything on the plate, figuring it was the safest route. When he turned to hand the plate off to Bucky, he saw that Bucky had loaded up his own plate.

Bucky locked eyes with Tony.

Tony smiled weakly. “Oops?”

Bucky grinned. “I uh, I made you a plate,” he said, holding it out to Tony.

“I made you one too,” Tony said, grinning broadly.

“Trade?” Bucky asked.

“Sure,” Tony said.

Steve watched with a bemused expression on his face as Tony and Bucky switched plates. He turned his attention to his own plate and loaded it up with a mountain of food before finding his way to his seat at the end of the table. All eyes were on Steve as he set his plate down. He cleared his throat. “Should I make my apology speech now? Or after everyone’s eaten?”

“I’d say after,” Clint said, “But if you do it before we can throw food at you so I’m voting for before.”

“He’s not even apologizing to you,” Natasha said, the corner of her lip twitching in amusement.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it the event,” Clint said.

Steve sighed wearily. “Great.”

“Go ahead, Steve,” Pepper said, smiling sweetly. “Let’s hear it.”

Steve swallowed hard and stood up.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if anything funky pops up and I'll fix it! : ) Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was hard to be angry at someone when they apologized and made you dinner, Tony thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a short chapter - I have a second part-time job, so I don't have as much time to write. I figured I'd better get this up and see what happens for the next update - that one should be the 24th of December, but it might be on the 25th because I don't have to work then.

“So,” Steve said, clearing his throat. He looked around the table, his gaze settling on Tony. “I know that things have been rough the last few weeks.”

“That’s putting it nicely,” Pepper said with a snort.

Steve flushed. “I’m not going to say I made the best decision when I started us down this road – I’m not going to stand here and tell you that what I did was just and right – I’m not here to tell you to forgive me for what happened. What I did wasn’t smart, even though at the time I thought it was. It was disrespectful of me to move without telling anyone other than Natasha what was going on, and I can see that now. I should have stopped and talked with my team – with Tony,” he said, nodding to Tony, “about what was going on. But I didn’t.”

Tony grinned. “Damn right you should have talked to me.”

Steve smiled crookedly. “When I first found out where Bucky was going to be, I think I got a little excited – _too_ excited,” he said, ducking his head in shame. “I wanted my friend back, and I didn’t really care how that happened – and I should have. I should have thought more about it, because you weren’t the only ones I left hanging. I’ve already talked with Sam about what happened and offered him an apology.”

“He’s alright with what happened?” Rhodey asked. “With you going off grid on him?”

“Not really,” Steve said, smiling weakly, “But he’s happy we’re all out of trouble and he’s willing to accept the apology on his own time and that’s more than what I deserve.”

“What’s Sam doing now, if you don’t mind me asking?” Pepper asked.

“He’s back at the VA working with his support group,” Steve said. “He told me he’s channeling his rage into a ‘more productive form’. He threatened to duct tape me to a flagpole when he sees me next.”

“Good for him,” Rhodey said.

“He likes keeping busy,” Steve said.

“You’re going to have to bring him by again,” Tony said, waggling his eyebrows at Rhodey. “I’m sure _someone_ might like to get to meet him _finally_.”

Rhodey went beet red and glared at Tony. “Shut your pie-hole, old man.”

Tony snickered and glanced over to Pepper, who was grinning broadly. “I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Pepper said, rolling her eyes. “You’ll get your five bucks when I get to a bank machine – if I ever get to one.”

“You two are _assholes_ ,” Rhodey said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Get on with the apology Cap – I don’t want to hear these two jabbering anymore.”

Steve laughed. “Ok.” He locked eyes with Tony again. “Ok – so where was I?”

“You were apologising to Sam,” Tony said, helpfully. He leaned against the edge of the table and grinned.

“Right – yes. I apologised to Sam already. I know that I’m always giving everyone shit for running off and doing things without telling me about it, so I’m going to have to stop here and start my apology all over again. I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m sorry, Rhodey. I’m sorry Pepper and I’m so, so sorry Tony. I’m sorry I didn’t stop and think about what I was doing. I should have stopped and told you all that Bucky wasn’t my pet cat that day when I handed Bucky off to you in that cat carrier– I should have told you that he was my friend and that he was very much _human_.”

“That’s a nice start,” Rhodey said.

“Agreed,” Pepper said.

“Very nice,” Tony said.

Bucky shrugged. “It’s alright.”

Steve coughed and swallowed hard. “Secondly, I apologise for not keeping in contact with all of you while I was out hunting for Hydra.”

Natasha cleared her throat. “Me too.”

Pepper smiled and leaned against Natasha’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“I should have made sure there were regular check-ins or at least arranged for some kind of message to get out when I knew we were going to be out of range,” Steve continued, his voice growing stronger. “I know that if I had said something about Bucky then, a lot of what happened to everyone could have been avoided.” He looked down at his plate grimly, as though ready to face down a firing squad. “I’m responsible for what happened to you while you were in Rumlow and Madame Hydra’s grasp. That’s on me.”

“It really is,” Rhodey said with a growl, his embarrassment gone as suddenly as it had appeared.

Pepper nodded firmly. “It would have saved us time and suffering.”

Tony pursed his lips. While he blamed Steve for a fairly _large_ amount of the pain they had gone through, he couldn’t quite bring himself to blame Steve for _everything_. Sure, Steve hadn’t said anything to them about Bucky being human, but it hadn’t been Steve who walked his friends into a trap – it had been _Tony_ who had gone into that damn vet office, _unarmed_ , with his two best friends. If he had taken one of his suits with him into the Playful Pet Vet office – hell, if he’d asked Clint or anyone else to come with them, maybe they wouldn’t have ended up underneath Madripor in Madame Hydra’s playhouse in the first place.

Bucky squeezed Tony’s hand, seeming to know what he was thinking. “It’s not your fault,” he murmured into Tony’s ear. “She would have tried to grab you no matter what you did – you know that. She was looking for someone to fix – _it_.” He shuddered, and Tony knew exactly what _it_ was without Bucky having to say anything aloud. “She already had her eyes on you even before she knew I was with you,” Bucky said.

“Sure,” Tony muttered, scowling down at his food. It didn’t matter if no one blamed him for what had happened – it was still partially his fault and he’d never be able to convince himself otherwise.

Steve glanced over at Tony, concerned. “Something wrong?”

“He’s fine, Captain,” Pepper said. “He’s busy blaming himself for things that aren’t his fault.”

Rhodey scowled at Tony. “Stop thinking you did something wrong – you didn’t do anything. We got out of there – we worked together and took Rumlow down. You didn’t send them out an invitation to kidnap us, so just stop blaming yourself.”

“You can’t make me,” Tony muttered.

“I _will_ crawl across this table and smack you if I have to,” Rhodey said, still scowling at Tony. “It was _not_ your fault. Yes, bad decisions were made, but that isn’t soely on you. You didn’t have the information you needed to make the right decision – you can’t be held responsible for not knowing what was going on. You thought it was a regular day – you were going to a _planned_ vet appointment to take your friend’s _cat_ in so the furry little asshole could get a checkup done on his leg and his stitches. It’s not like you skipped down the street begging to be kidnapped.”

“He’s right,” Steve said, nodding forcefully, looking to Tony like some kind of human-sized bobblehead that had been bumped by accident. “You’re not at fault for anything that happened – you did what you thought was the right thing. Madame Hydra made the decision to attack you – that wasn’t your choice.”

Tony remained silent.

“Look,” Steve said with a weary sigh. “I think we can learn from this – _all_ of us.”

“Aww _man_ ,” Clint muttered. “An apology isn’t supposed to turn into a _lecture_.”

“This isn’t a lecture,” Steve said. “This is a procedure change – for everyone in the Avengers.”

“What are you suggesting?” Natasha asked.

“We need to start telling each other where we’re going – even If we’re in a rush,” Steve said. “Any kind of message will do – preferably, it’ll be telling Jarvis or someone else who can get the word out – and no matter what happens, we will leave each other information in case of an emergency. I don’t want anything like this to happen again.”

Clint picked up his spoon and scooped up a blob of mashed potatoes, eyeing Steve. “This still sounds too much like a lecture.”

“I wouldn’t fling that if I were you,” Steve said, not even looking at Clint.

Clint slumped petulantly in his seat, putting his spoon down.

“What does everyone say?” Steve said. “Is this something we can agree on?”

Everyone around the table nodded.

“Alright,” Steve said, perking up. He grinned. “Good.”

“So where’s the rest of the apology?” Tony drawled.

Steve flushed. “Sorry – as I was saying, I take full responsibility for what happened in Madame Hydra’s base. I’ll understand if you aren’t ready to accept my apology right now – this is about you feeling better, not about me. I made a bad call, and I understand entirely if you want me to take time off and let someone else lead the team.”

Tony frowned. “What? No! No one wants you to stop leading,” he said.

“You’re still our Cap, Cap,” Clint said, saluting Steve with his potato filled spoon.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Steve said, humbly. “But if it ever comes to something like this again – if something happens when I’m leading or on my watch, I want everyone to call me on it and if it’s bad, I want someone to take over for me. No questions asked – I’ll walk away and do what needs to be done.”

“That’s vaguely ominous,” Tony said.

“Yeah really,” Clint said, glancing over at Tony and then back at Steve.

“Fine,” Natasha said, brusquely. “If it happens again, we’ll replace you until you’re fit to lead again. Is that acceptable?”

Steve smiled. “Very much so.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Clint said. “So can we eat now? Or are you still apologising endlessly?”

“Let’s eat,” Pepper said. “We can debate on the apology when we’re done.”

Tony grinned and picked up his fork. He had heard more than enough apologizing for today – now it was time to eat before the food got cold.

 

 

As expected, everything Steve had made tasted fantastic; Tony hadn’t enjoyed turkey this much in years, and that included turkeys he had had during catered thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. His old butler Jarvis still had always made, hands down, the best turkey amongst all of mankind, but Steve’s bird was a close second. Tony moaned and leaned back in his chair, stuffed to bursting; Bucky was leaning back in his chair the same way, his eyes half closed as he tried to digest dinner and stay upright at the same time.

Steve was the only one who was still eating. He seemed determined to finish everything on his plate, even though he had already polished off five separate plates of food.

Tony wasn’t sure whether he should sit up and applauded the effort or try and roll out of his chair and flee.

Pepper slumped against the table with Natasha resting against her shoulder. “I think I’m willing to accept the Captain’s apology if it means I can crawl into bed and take a tryptophan fueled nap,” she said.

Tony groaned. “Hear, hear.”

“Agreed,” Rhodey mumbled into the table.

Clint grimaced. “I bet that was the plan all along,” he said, pushing his plate away.

Steve smiled brightly. “Feel free to head off to bed – I’ll clean up and pack everything away. We can talk more tomorrow.”

“Oh thank god,” Clint said, struggling to his feet. He staggered off towards the elevator, keeping himself upright by sliding along the wall.

Tony chuckled and struggled upright. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow, Cap.”

“ _Steve_ ,” Steve said.

“Steve,” Tony said, smiling softly. He leaned against Bucky’s chair and ran his fingers through Bucky’s bangs, pleased by how soft they were. “Coming to bed, sweetheart? Or are you going to fall asleep here?”

Bucky groaned and heaved himself upright, holding onto Tony’s arm as he stood. He winced as his injured leg connected with the ground and adjusted his weight so he wasn’t leaning on it so heavily. “Let’s go.” He nodded to Steve, rubbing his stomach with his free hand. “Thanks for the grub.”

Steve smiled. “I’m glad I could help.” He watched as Tony and Bucky left for Tony’s room and sighed to himself as he began collecting plates.

 

 

Tony woke to the soft sound of feet against carpet. He opened an eye with a groan and grabbed blindly at the arm beside the bed. “Don’t leave,” he said, aware that his voice had gone from gravely to whiney in a matter of seconds.

Steve laughed nervously and patted Tony’s hand. “Bucky and I are just going to take a jog around the block,” he said.

Bucky leaned down and planted a kiss on Tony’s forehead. “I’ll be back in an hour – go back to sleep, dollface.”

Tony scowled and let go of Steve so he could burrow back under the blankets. He rolled himself into the warm spot Bucky had left behind and curled up, grumbling to himself as he heard Steve and Bucky’s footsteps vanish. He jerked roughly awake again ten minutes later and sat up, blinking back spots. “What’s – was that an hour?”

Bucky’s face was pale; he was shaking as he pulled off his sweat drenched clothes and dumped them onto the floor.

“Bucky? What’s wrong?” Tony asked, immediately alert.

“It’s fine,” Bucky said, practically diving underneath the covers. He pressed his face against Tony’s throat, wrapping his arms around him. “It’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

Tony stroked Bucky’s hair, trying to tame the tangles he found. “What happened?”

Bucky remained silent; when his breathing finally evened out, he snuggled closer and sighed wearily. “I couldn’t do it.”

“Do what? Force yourself to jog so early in the morning?” Tony teased, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s forehead.

“I couldn’t force myself out of the building,” Bucky said, miserably.

“Oh,” Tony said. He knew what that was like. After he had been kidnapped in Afghanistan, he hadn’t been able to go anywhere; if he hadn’t had Happy, Pepper and Rhodey around to goad him into leaving the building he would have stayed inside indefinitely. Hell, he wasn’t sure he could leave the tower right _now_. He hadn’t escaped the nightmares from back then; every other time he closed his eyes he dreamed he was back there in Afghanistan or in Rumlow’s grasp – it was still hard to believe that those were dreams and harder still to convince himself that he had really escaped. Sometimes he wondered if he was still here, simply dreaming his life away.

“I won’t tell you it’ll be ok,” Tony said, his voice soft. “Because you probably won’t feel ok for a long time.”

“I know,” Bucky said.

“But I know one thing,” Tony said. “We’ll get through this together. And one day, we’ll both be able to go outside and walk around without worrying about what Hydra’s going to do to us.”

“You should pretty sure about that for someone who isn’t telling me it’s going to be ok,” Bucky said with a sniffle.

Tony chuckled darkly. “Let’s just say I’m used to being kidnapped – the routine is getting old at this point.”

Bucky squeezed Tony. “I wish I could have done something to stop it,” he said.

“There was nothing you could do,” Tony said, flatly. “It’s like you said – there wasn’t anything anyone could have done to keep Madame Hydra from getting her hands on both of us eventually. If it hadn’t been there at the vet office, it would be somewhere else – and maybe if it had been somewhere else, Steve and the others wouldn’t have been able to find us.” He pulled the blankets around them. “Right now I’m just glad we’re home and that that fucking Chair is ash in my incinerator downstairs.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to Tony’s throat. “Thank you,” he said.

“For what?” Tony asked, amused.

“For burning it down,” Bucky said. “For making sure they didn’t get to keep it.”

“You’re very welcome,” Tony said. “Quick question.”

“Sure,” Bucky said with a grunt, closing his eyes.

“Does Steve know where you are? Or is he going to burst in here looking for you?” Tony asked.

The door opened with a creak and Steve stepped in, his face sweaty and his eyes wide. “Is Bucky – oh. Good.” He slumped against the wall, as though standing up was sudden tougher than he could handle.

“He’s fine, Steve,” Tony said. “You do realize you can use the trackers in him to, you know – _track_ him?”

“I know,” Steve said, pursing his lips. “I just didn’t want to invade his privacy by looking at it.”

“So you followed him into our _bedroom_ instead?” Tony asked, with a laugh.

Steve flushed.

“You’re adorable,” Tony said, stroking Bucky’s hair. “How was your run?”

“I got about a block and a half away from the door before I realized Bucky wasn’t behind me,” Steve said, fidgeting with his sweaty shirt. “We took precautions before we left. Natasha and Clint were going to be shadowing us the entire time just in case Hydra decided to come peeking out of the shadows, but I guess we’re not going anywhere now.”

“They’re still out there?” Tony asked.

“Once they asked Jarvis if Bucky was alright, they decided to head over to the bakery across the street,” Steve admitted. “I guess they knew no one was going to be heading out after that.”

“Probably not,” Tony agreed.

“ _Definitely_ not,” Bucky muttered into Tony’s chest. “You can still go for your run if you want, Steve.”

“I don’t really want to,” Steve said.

“Knock, knock,” Clint crowed as he stumbled into Tony’s bedroom.

Tony scowled as Bucky burrowed even further under the blankets and tried to disappear entirely. “What are you doing in here?”

“We brought breakfast,” Natasha said, poking her head through the doorway.

“Why is everyone in my bedroom?” Tony grumbled. “I am not running a hotel. Go back to your own rooms!”

“But yours is so much more comfortable than mine – minus the part where Pepper is in mine, of course,” Natasha said, sidestepping Steve. She settled on the end of the bed by Tony’s feet and held out a muffin. “It’s peaches and oatmeal - your favourite.”

Tony’s mouth watered as his nose picked up the first hint of peaches. He hadn’t been even _remotely_ considering getting up so soon but apparently his stomach had decided it had more power than his brain today; he inched closer to the muffin, licking his lips.

Bucky groaned and tugged at Tony’s shirt. “Stop moving,” he said.

“I can’t,” Tony said, his gaze glued to the muffin. “It’s calling me.”

“Stop luring my Tony out of bed with muffins,” Bucky said, lifting the blanket just enough so he could glare at Natasha.

Natasha grinned and gave the muffin a shake, drawing Tony closer. “Can’t,” she said. “It’s too late. Once he’s smelled it, there’s no turning back.” She stood up slowly, inching away from the bed.

“You’re cruel,” Tony said, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. He lifted the blankets up and tried to wriggle free from Bucky’s grasp, but it was no use. Bucky wasn’t letting go.

“Bucky,” Tony whined. “Muffins!”

“No,” Bucky whined back, “I don’t want to get up.”

“Stop tormenting Tony,” Steve said, wearily.

“I can’t,” Natasha said, smirking at Steve. “Once _I’ve_ started, there’s no turning back.”

“You two are _horrible_ people!” Tony said, still perched on the edge of his bed.

“No, I’m the one who’s cruel,” Clint said. He snatched the muffin from Natasha’s hand and ran out of the room, laughing like a maniac.

Tony pouted and slumped against the blankets, letting himself be reeled in by Bucky. “Why do I let you people live in my house again?”

Natasha chuckled. “Because we bring you food,” she said. She pulled another peach and oatmeal muffin from behind her back and held it out again.

Tony tried to get back up.

“Tony,” Bucky growled.

“But – _muffins_!” Tony said, wiggling his fingers.

“I’m afraid he’s going to have to get up,” Natasha said. “Pepper and Rhodey want to talk with him.”

Bucky’s grip loosened. His head reappeared underneath the blankets. “And you couldn’t have just said that before?”

Tony lifted the blankets higher and kissed Bucky on the forehead. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said.

“Yeah right,” Bucky muttered. “You’re going to run off with that fucking _muffin_.”

“He might,” Natasha said, grinning. “You’d better make the return worth his while if you want him back, though.”

Bucky snorted and returned to burrowing under the blankets.

 

 

Tony followed Natasha into the living room, nibbling his muffin. He found Pepper and Rhodey sprawled on the couch across from the coffee table and joined them, plopping himself down in the free space. Natasha and Steve took up spots on the other couch and leaned back to watch, still silent.

“So what’s with the summoning by baked goods?” Tony asked through a mouthful of muffin.

“I have to go back,” Rhodey said with a grimace.

Tony’s stomach twisted. “The army called you back already? That’s not fair!”

“I know,” Rhodey said. “But they want War Machine back, and they figure I’m good to go already.”

“I can yell at them if you want,” Tony offered. “or I can sabatoge War Machine – make it do nothing but dance badly or something.”

“Amusing as that might be,” Rhodey said, chuckling. “Please no.”

“It’s no use,” Pepper said. “I already tried to talk sense into them. Turns out they’ve got a black ops mission they need War Machine for and they’re not willing to wait.” She looked like she was going to cry.

Rhodey put his arm around Pepper’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine,” he said. “They said they’ll have me talk to a shrink when I get back and they were fine with that.”

“Who are they sending you after?” Natasha asked, curling in her seat like a cat.

“Can’t say. It’s not a who, though,” Rhodey said. He grinned, baring his teeth. “I _can_ tell you it’s something we _want_ found.”

“Good to know,” Steve said. “And you’re sure you’ll be alright? I can try to talk to them if that’ll help.”

Rhodey looked star-struck for a moment; he shook his head and cleared his throat, scratching at the back of his neck as his cheeks went faintly pink. “No - no, it’s fine. I’ll be alright. Unlike the rest of you guys, Rumlow and Madame Hydra didn’t really talk to me – I spent most of my time being bored and angry.”

“Alright,” Steve said. “If that’s what you want, Colonel.”

“It is,” Rhodey said. “Now – down to business.”

“This _wasn’t_ business?” Tony asked, perplexed. He had assumed they were here to eat muffins and suffer together. Clearly he had been wrong.

“We’re here to decide whether we accept Cap’s apology or not,” Pepper said, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.

Steve winced. “Should I be here for this?”

“You can stay,” Rhodey said. “It’ll save us time.”

Pepper and Tony nodded in agreement.

“Alright,” Rhodey said. “So, from what was said yesterday and that massive amount of food Cap made us, I’m leaning towards acceptance of his apology with a hint of forgiveness in time.”

Pepper hummed softly, curling a strand of hair around her finger. “I don’t know,” she said.

Tony watched Pepper carefully, trying not to look directly at her. He could see Steve trying to keep a straight face out of the corner of his eye, and it was hard not to smile at the poor bastard.

“You’re not convinced he’s sorry?” Rhodey asked, looking perplexed.

“Oh, I’m convinced,” Pepper said. “I’m just not sure I want to let him off the hook so soon.”

Steve twiddled his thumbs and glanced over at Natasha.

Natasha shrugged.

“If we do the acceptance of the apology and the hint of forgiveness in time we’re not _outright_ forgiving him,” Tony pointed out. “You can leave him hanging as long as you want after that.”

“True,” Pepper said.

“And you did forgive Natasha,” Tony said.

Pepper grimaced. “Alright fine. We’ll go with Rhodey’s option.” She turned to Steve. “Congratulations, Captain. Your apology has been acknowledged.”

Steve grinned. “Glad to hear it.”

“So what’s next on the agenda?” Tony asked, looking over at Rhodey. He took another bite of muffin and hid a moan in his arm so he wouldn’t give Pepper or Rhodey the chance to smack him. Damn sinful muffins. He was lucky they were a big seller at the one bakery nearby that sold them, or else he was fairly certain he would have been at least fifty pounds heavier.

“Well,” Rhodey said, clearing his throat. “Thanks to Jarvis, my mom’s got all the stuff I was supposed to be shopping for, and there isn’t anything left on my shopping list either. Thank you Jarvis.”

“Not a problem, sir,” Jarvis said. “I’m glad you were satisfied with my work.”

“I always am,” Rhodey said with a smile.

“So what do you want to do with your last day of freedom?” Tony asked. “I’m assuming you’re leaving tomorrow in the morning?”

“Bingo. They asked me to fly War Machine in for the briefing at 0800,” Rhodey said with a scowl. “I don’t know what we’re going to have time to do. I’m thinking we should avoid partying. I’d rather not have to load up on ibuprofen just to keep from puking in the suit.”

“Good point,” Tony said. “So – let’s keep this in-house then?” He cracked his knuckles. “And by the way were you ever going to tell me what you had planned after that horrible news report?”

“Nope,” Rhodey said. “Now you’re going to have to wait even longer – nice try though.”

Pepper patted Tony’s arm as he pouted. “It’ll be worth the wait – believe me.”

“Sure,” Tony grumbled, nibbling on the last chunk of his muffin. “You’re lucky you’re cute or you’d never get away with pulling that crap all the damn time.”

“I know,” Natasha said, shaking her head sadly.

Tony nodded sternly. “One of these days we’re going to have to out-cute her and see what happens,” he said.

Steve blushed and cleared his throat. “I think you’re both cute enough as it is.”

Natasha smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, batting his eyelashes at Steve. “Thank you Steve.”

Steve stood up and headed for the kitchen, coughing.

“What’s wrong Steve?” Natasha drawled.

“Need some water – nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all,” Steve said, clearing his throat again. “Just a dry throat.”

“Uh huh,” Natasha said. She smiled knowingly at Tony and then slumped in her seat, sprawling against the arm of the couch. “So what kind of trouble are you planning to get into?”

“None,” Rhodey said with a sigh. “It’s more like, how much more of my day can I spend napping before I have to actually start getting ready to leave.” He turned to Tony. “How much do you think I can manage, genius?” He grinned.

“I’d say at least another hour or three,” Tony said, licking the crumbs of his muffin off his fingers.

“Good estimate,” Rhodey said. He patted Pepper’s shoulder and got up. “Alright – I saw we reconvene here in three hours – maybe four.”

“I’m all for that,” Tony said, getting up. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go back and cuddle with my boyfriend.”

Rhodey flipped Tony the bird and walked into the guest room. “Asshole,” he muttered, smiling at fondly at Tony.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, let me know if you spot anything funky and I'll try and fix it as soon as possible! Thanks for all the awesome comments! I swear - I'll respond to them as soon as I can. I've been so tired lately, I keep forgetting to answer them!
> 
> Thanks again for reading! :D


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naps were fantastic - as was apology cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a short chapter. Let me know if you spot anything funky and I'll fix it! : )

Tony stumbled into his bedroom, heavy with sleep and full of delicious muffin. He crawled back onto his bed, fumbling with the edge of his blanket and lifted it up so he could slip underneath. He expected to find Bucky asleep, but Bucky was very much awake. Mind you, that could have been because he had accidentally kicked Bucky in the shins.

“Hey,” Tony murmured, shifting his legs under the covers. “You’re awake.”

Bucky rolled closer, wrapping his arms around Tony, and snuggled up against him.

“Oh _good_ ,” Tony murmured. He let out a sigh, grateful to be back in bed once more with Bucky’s warm bulk. With Rhodey leaving, he felt lost, as though part of him was leaving too. It was strange – it wasn’t like Rhodey _hadn’t_ left on missions like this before, because he had. They had gone through this ritual for years, yet this time, he was couldn’t stop himself from thinking that something might happen – something bad – and the thought of Rhodey not coming home again scared the hell out of him. He gnawed on his lower lip and wondered if he was being irrational. Rhodey was a trained soldier; Rhodey knew what to do to keep himself alive in hostile environments. It wasn’t like the guy just ambled about like a spring lamb while on the battlefield.

So why did he feel so nervous?

Bucky pressed a kiss to Tony’s bearded cheek. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You’re all tense.” He rubbed circles on Tony’s belly, his touch gentle yet firm. “Did something happen in your meeting?”

Tony let out a huffed laugh. “You could say that,” he said. He closed his eyes and focused on Bucky’s touch, letting it sooth his anxiety. After a few minutes of bliss, he turned slightly in Bucky’s grasp and burrowed closer, burying his nose against Bucky’s throat. “Rhodey’s going back to work tomorrow,” he said.

“Is that bad or good?” Bucky moved his hand and began rubbing circles on Tony’s back between his shoulder blades.

“I don’t know. It’s bad and good,” Tony said with a grumble. “After all the shit we’ve been through, I don’t know what to do about it. Steve and I offered to try and talk to his bosses to see if they’d let him stay here longer, but he didn’t seem to think it wold help. They’re sending him on some kind of secret hush-hush black ops mission – he couldn’t tell us about it.”

“And that’s making your nervous?” Bucky shifted the blankets and tucked them around Tony’s back, making sure there were no gaps where the cold air could sneak in.

“I keep thinking Madame Hydra’s going to jump out from behind a dumpster and attack him when he drives out of here with War Machine tomorrow morning,” Tony admitted. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Bucky said.

“It is,” Tony insisted. “He’ll be fine. _Realistically_ I know he’ll be fine – he’s _always_ fine, and thank fuck for that – but it just – it makes me itchy just thinking about it.”

“Madame Hydra’s not going to go after Rhodey,” Bucky said, softly. “She’s not interested in War Machine.”

“I don’t know,” Tony said. “I don’t know what she’s thinking – I barely talked to her when she had me but she gave me the creeps. If there’s someone out there who could go after someone for no good reason, it’s her.”

“She’s not stupid enough to go after your friends right after the Avengers attacked her,” Bucky said. “She lost a lot of powerful allies in that fight. She’s going to hide and regroup.”

“I hate that she’s still out there,” Tony mumbled into Bucky’s throat.

“I know. I hate it too,” Bucky said. “But there’s nothing we can do about her right now.”

“You’re right, but that doesn’t make me feel any better,” Tony said. He sighed again, fingers tangling in Bucky’s shirt. He slipped into Extremis, letting it fill his mind. He needed to plan things for Rhodey’s going-away party, and he couldn’t do that if he was asleep. It would be better to order things in now before he drifted off to sleep. He pulled up the website for the company that made Rhodey’s favourite truffles and started shopping, picking out sixty of each; he knew how fast the team would devour them once they realized how good the truffles were, and he needed Rhodey to get at _least_ three or four of each squirreled away before everyone else started inhaling them. He paid to have everything shipped in the next three hours and then made a list of all the different kinds of food Rhodey might enjoy – the ones that wouldn’t give him heartburn from all the grease – and ordered everything in to be delivered at the same time as the truffles. Rhodey would get to feast like a king on his last day at the tower. At least they had time left to goof off and given him a proper temporary farewell.

Bucky drummed his fingers on Tony’s back. He cleared his throat. “So uh, was that what your meeting was about?”

Tony blinked, pushing Extremis away as the last order shot off through the internet to billing and delivery. “What?”

“You guys were meeting to talk about Rhodey?” Bucky asked.

“Oh,” Tony said, “Uh yeah. The meeting was more about Steve, really. We agreed to accept his apology while only giving him hints of forgiveness as time goes by, and then we talked about Rhodey. He’s going tomorrow morning at 0800 so we’re taking a three to four hour nap and then reconvening to celebrate.”

“I bet Steve’s happy about the tentative forgiveness,” Bucky said, slowly.

“I’m thinking yes,” Tony said. He pressed a kiss to Bucky’s throat. “I should have just dragged you out there with us, but I figured you weren’t ready to get up.”

“It’s fine,” Bucky said. “Really.”

“Ok,” Tony said. “But if anything bothers you, let me know, alright? I don’t want you to feel like you were being left out or something.”

Bucky sighed and squeezed Tony’s hip. “Alright,” he said. “So we have three hours, huh?”

“Yep,” Tony said. “I ordered in some extra food and dessert a couple of minutes ago – it’ll be showing up when we’re ready. We should _probably_ be awake for that.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Bucky said. “I guess this means we’ll have some privacy now huh?”

“Definitely,” Tony said with a chuckle. “Natasha and Pepper are napping too, and so is Rhodey. I’m thinking Steve might not be nodding off like the rest of us, but he’s not going to be walking into our bedroom again.”

Bucky grinned. “Good.”

“Did you have anything in mind?” Tony asked.

“Nope,” Bucky said. He shifted until he had a leg tucked between Tony’s and his arm wrapped around Tony’s middle. He kissed the top of Tony’s head and pulled the blanket up around Tony’s shoulders. “Go to sleep.”

 

 

Tony woke up alone. For a split second he panicked, thrashing underneath the blankets, hurrying to get up; he calmed considerably when he smelled the delicate aroma of baking cake and blinked away his fear, aware that he wasn’t dreaming any longer. He wasn’t alone – well, technically speaking he was alone, but Bucky was still here in the penthouse. Crawling across the bed, Tony kicked the blankets away and nonchalantly tried to saunter out into the living room without looking like he had just run from his room.

Tony found Bucky in the kitchen. The bastard was wearing an apron – the very one Tony, Rhodey and Pepper used when making apology cakes – and Bucky was absolutely covered in cake batter. Sitting on the counter beside Bucky were two baked cakes sitting on cooling racks and a bowl of melted chocolate waiting to be used; the cake, once assembled, would be _monstrous_. Bucky was holding a bowl, filled with something Tony couldn’t quite see and was talking softly with Pepper and Rhodey. All three of them turned to face Tony as he got closer.

“Morning sweetheart,” Bucky said, setting down the bowl.

“Morning,” Tony said, slinking further into the kitchen. He hovered beside the counter and was pleased when he got a good morning kiss from Bucky. “What have you been doing?” he asked.

“I figured I’d better make my apology cake before Rhodey left,” Bucky said. “I wanted to do something useful.”

“The cake is much appreciated,” Rhodey said, licking his lips as he eyed the cake.

Pepper nodded feverishly. “Yes – _very_ much appreciated.”

“It smells amazing,” Tony said, creeping closer to the bowl Bucky had put down. Inside it, to Tony’s delight, was chocolate buttercream. He didn’t even have to taste it to know it would be amazing; he recognized it by smell alone. This was a personal favourite. It was from Jarvis’ recipe stash. The butler had kept a very meticulously written collection of everything he had cooked for the Stark family over the years, and when he had died the recipe book had ended up in Tony’s care. Clearly someone had pointed Bucky to that collection, but Tony had no idea who that might have been. Tony licked his lips. He wanted to stick a finger in that frosting and eat it right then and there.

Bucky shooed Tony out of the kitchen and away from the buttercream frosting as though he knew _exactly_ what Tony was planning to do. “Go sit down,” he said. He patted each of the cakes with his flesh-and-blood hand, checking the temperature and then picked up a bread knife and cut each rounded cake in half.

“He’s going to make a layered cake,” Rhodey stage whispered to Tony as Tony sat down in the chair beside him at the edge of the table.

“It’s devil’s food cake,” Pepper murmured from the Rhodey’s other side, her gaze still glued on the cake. “It’s beautiful. I kind of want to marry it.”

Bucky flushed and turned away, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

Tony grinned. “I’ve got the best boyfriend in the world if Pepper’s considering having his cake-babies,” he said.

Pepper didn’t even scowl. “Damn right.”

“Rub it in some more jerk,” Rhodey grumbled. He sighed in despair and leaned against the counter, resting his chin on his clasped hands. “Why is it _you_ two get all the good ones?”

“I have no idea,” Tony said. “I’m generally an awful human being.”

“Same here,” Pepper said, pursing her lips.

Rhodey chuckled. “You two are so full of shit.”

Bucky carried the glass cake stand that had been purchased years ago by Tony to house their apology cakes over and set it down beside the cooling racks. He flipped the first of the now four rounded cake layers over and picked up a knife, slathering the top of it with a thick layer of buttercream. As he put the next chunk of cake on top of the buttercream covered layer, Tony, Rhodey and Pepper sighed longingly and licked their lips.

“Baking is a good look on you,” Tony said, catching Bucky’s eye.

Bucky smiled shyly. “Yeah?”

“You look good splattered in cake batter,” Tony said. “I’m pretty sure you’ve made the world’s _best_ apology cake.”

“There’s no way to know _that_ until you try it,” Bucky said, his cheeks going faintly pink again.

“If it’s Jarvis’ recipe, it’ll be fantastic even if you accidentally light it on fire,” Rhodey said.

“That sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Bucky said, dryly.

“He is,” Tony said.

“It was still _edible_ once I put the fire out,” Rhodey said with a grunt. “No amount of burning could ruin it.”

“Or dropping it on the floor,” Pepper said.

Rhodey winced. “Oh yeah. Forgot about that part. The icing fixed it up – I didn’t hear either of you complaining while you were stuffing your faces.”

“I see,” Bucky said, looking relieved. “I was kind of worried I’d mess it up, to be honest. My handlers didn’t really let me do any cooking.”

Pepper cocked an eyebrow. “Really? When you walked in here and started mixing things, it looked to me like you’d been making cakes since before you could walk.”

Bucky grinned sheepishly. “I can memorize recipes,” he said.

“That’s handy,” Rhodey said.

“It’s just – sometimes the ingredients don’t always do what I want them to do,” Bucky said with a shrug. “I had to ask your AI to help me pick everything out. Some of the stuff in your cupboard looks like it costs more than a car and I didn’t know where to start.”

“Prices have changed a _wee_ bit since your time,” Tony said, eyes crinkling at the corners. “But yeah, I think I went overboard on the groceries this time.”

“ _Every_ time,” Pepper said with a snort. “What was the bill this time?”

“It wasn’t over fifteen thousand this time – that’s a new record,” Tony said.

Bucky nearly chocked on his spit. “Fifteen thousand? _Dollars_?”

“Technically speaking that’s the cost of feeding _all_ of the Avengers,” Tony said weary sigh. He had gotten the exact same reaction from Steve when he and Pepper had had a conversation about the grocery bill in front of the dear Captain months ago. Inflation had made Steve very uncomfortable, and Bucky was likely feeling the same way. He made a note via Extremis to make sure Bucky got a tablet and laptop that could access anything Bucky could ever conceivably want to know; there was a lot to catch up on, even for someone who had been awake every once in a while over the years.

“Price changes don’t make spending fifteen thousand dollars any easier to swallow,” Bucky said with a grimace.

“Think about it this way. It’s at least a thousand a week for Steve’s food,” Tony said, steepling his fingers. “Seriously – I’ve chopped it down as much as I possibly can because he asked me too. When Thor’s not here it’s a lot cheaper – he eats at least three times as much as Steve does.”

“Oh,” Bucky said, looking embarrassed.

“Don’t worry,” Pepper said. “Nothing we buy goes to waste and if we have leftovers, we always make sure someone in SI gets to take them home.”

“And hey, at least you guys aren’t stuck eating cans of spam every day,” Rhodey said. He groaned in despair. “I don’t want to go back to eating army food.”

Pepper patted Rhodey’s shoulder. “There, there,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll be back quickly.” She smiled weakly at Rhodey. “I wish there was something we could do to keep you here all the time.”

“I could hire you as my bodyguard,” Tony offered. “Everyone at SI thinks I’m inept – they’d totally believe that.”

“If I let you do that, my mother would kill me,” Rhodey said. “She was a _pilot_ , remember? She’d smack me upside the head if she found out I left so I could stay here and eat cake while watching you blow yourself up every other day.” He groaned and buried his face in his arms. “And I like working there – you know that. It’s just the hours that suck.”

“And the whole being away from everyone you know and love thing,” Pepper said.

“Exactly,” Rhodey muttered. “If Tony would just get off his ass and invent _teleportation_ , things would be so much easier.”

Tony scowled and rested his elbows on the counter. “I’m still working on that,” he said.

“I don’t expect you to pull it off,” Rhodey said, his eyes closed. He reached up blindly to pat Tony’s head and got him in the side of the nose instead. “And now that I’m thinking about it – Please don’t invent teleportation. I don’t even want to think about some asshole being able to teleport in here and get at you guys.”

“Good point,” Tony mumbled through Rhodey’s hand.

“It’d be nice but it’s not worth the risk,” Rhodey said, dropping his arm back onto the counter so he could sigh in despair into it. “I hate how everyone seems to want to kill you, Tony.”

“Same here,” Tony said.

Pepper patted Rhodey’s head again. “It’ll be alright. We always end up back here again eventually.”

“I know,” Rhodey said. “I just wish I’d actually been able to have a _vacation_ this time. I swear – it’s like supervillains and enemy combatants hear through the grapevine when I’m off and _plan_ for it.”

“Natasha says the same thing,” Pepper said with a smile.

“Where is our dear deadly assassin?” Tony asked.

“She’s still sleeping,” Pepper said, her smile turning mischievous. “I shouldn’t do this, but what the hell. She can only kill me once.” She pulled out her phone and opened up her photos, revealing a picture she had taken of Natasha curled up in a ball, sleeping peacefully under their blankets; Natasha’s red hair was mussed with sleep and she looked rumpled in a way Tony had never seen before. She looked peaceful – happy.

“Aww,” Rhodey said, sniffling a little. “That’s _adorable_.”

“She looks so cute when she’s asleep,” Tony said, rubbing at his watering eyes. “I don’t know how she does it. I fall asleep and I look like I got into a fight with my hair and the blankets.”

Bucky leaned forwards, going up on the tips of his toes to get a look at the picture. He smirked and went back to slathering buttercream on the next layer of cake. “I don’t know – I think someone else is cuter.”

Tony grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Bucky. “And that’s why you’re my favourite.”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

“So where’s Natasha supposed to be right now?” Rhodey asked. “I take it she’s skipping something?”

“She was supposed to get up and spar with Clint and Steve, but she decided she’d rather sleep in,” Pepper said.

“Good to know that she _does_ in fact sleep,” Tony said. “I’ve always wondered about that.”

Pepper flicked Tony in the ear.

Tony grimaced. “What? She calls me a _robot_ too, you know.”

“I know,” Pepper said, cheerfully. “And I flick her in the ear when she says it.”

Tony rubbed his ear. “I did not know that,” he said.

“Unlike you, she _learned the first time_ ,” Pepper said.

Tony scowled. “I learn.”

“Eventually,” Rhodey chuckled.

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

“What’s up, Jarvis?” Tony asked, glad for the interruption.

“Your food has arrived,” Jarvis said. “Captain Rogers and Mr. Barton are bringing everything up now.”

Tony rubbed his hands together in glee, pleased that his stomach’s wrath would be appeased. A muffin for breakfast wasn’t exactly the most filling thing, and three hours had demolished that sweet treat. “Oh goodie – food!”

Pepper sighed. “What did you order _now_? We have leftovers, remember?”

“I ordered in some of that fancy agedashi tofu Rhodey loves and a fuck-ton of sushi,” Tony said with a grumble, crossing his arms over his chest. “Believe me – it’ll be gone fast and it’ll work with Steve’s leftovers – assuming of course that Steve and Clint didn’t inhale everything for breakfast like the demonic bottomless pits they are.”

Rhodey groaned into the counter again, slapping it with his hand. “Aww _man_ – I never did get to go for Ramen. Or for that fancy beef vindaloo.”

“You’ll just have to suffer for now,” Tony said.

“I don’t _want_ to suffer,” Rhodey muttered petulantly. “I want my vacation! Why can’t I get a do-over?”

“Believe me, if I could turn back time so you could get the vacation you deserve, I’d do it in a heartbeat,” Tony said. “I mean, I’d leave in the parts where I get together with Bucky – but all the bad shit, that would be gone.”

Bucky smiled softly.

“We’ll bring you some vindaloo when you come back,” Pepper said, consolingly. “And we’ll marathon Red Dwarf like you wanted.”

Rhodey groaned into the counter. “We missed our Red Dwarf marathon _again_!”

Tony slumped in his chair. “Aww, _fuck_. We did.”

Pepper sighed and leaned against the counter on her elbows. “We did. I didn’t even think about it until a few minutes ago.”

“ _Balls_ ,” Rhodey said into the table.

“Every _fucking_ time,” Tony said, his voice coming out in a whine.

“Red Dwarf?” Bucky asked, cocking his head to the side, the spatula covered in icing held in hand.

“It’s a British TV show about a guy in the future who works on a mining ship in space,” Tony said.

“He kind of an idiot and he ends up being the last living human being after an accident kills the rest of the crew while he’s in stasis,” Rhodey said.

“It’s very funny,” Pepper said.

Bucky frowned. “Everyone dies and it’s _funny_?”

“It is _extremely_ funny – we’ll watch it together,” Tony said. He froze. Stasis? Wait. Being trapped in stasis as the world ended probably wasn’t something Bucky would appreciate; being in stasis in _general_ was probably one of the worst things Bucky had endured. Damn it! Why hadn’t he thought about it before he had opened his big fat mouth? “I mean, if you’re interested,” he said, swallowing hard. “No pressure – You don’t have to watch anything that would make you uncomfortable.”

Bucky smiled crookedly. “If you’re this enthusiastic about it, it must be good,” he said. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Good man,” Rhodey said, sitting up straighter. He scowled and ran his hand over his face. “Well, at least I’ve got _something_ to look forward to once this mission is over.”

“Aside from the whole returning to _us_ thing,” Tony said, elbowing Rhodey in the side.

“Aside from that,” Rhodey said with a chuckle.

Bucky slathered a final layer on the cake, flattening it out with his spatula. He twirled the spatula between his fingers and smiled softly at Tony. “Want a taste?” he asked when he noticed that Tony, Pepper and Rhodey were all watching the spatula eagerly.

“Sure,” Tony said, holding a hand out.

Bucky stepped around the counter and handed the spatula off to Tony.

The elevator dinged; the doors opened.

Tony licked the spatula, his eyes closing and moaned as the buttercream melted in his mouth. Goddamn it – there was good food and then there was _good_ food. Bucky was clearly a god when it came to baking – even if he didn’t think he was.

Clint cleared his throat loudly, the sound practically in Tony’s ear.

Tony jerked back in surprise, dropping the spatula; Rhodey caught it with practiced ease and gave it a lick before handing it off to Pepper who gave it a lick too.

Tony scowled at Clint. “Damn it – you cost me precious icing,” he said.

Clint set the bags of sushi down on the counter in front of Tony. “But I saved Steve from an aneurism,” he said, with a laugh. “It’s worth the pain.”

Tony blinked slowly and turned to face Steve, who was trying to creep around the counter to put the food down without being seen. The poor guy’s face was bright red, and he did sort of look like he was having a bit of a problem, although Tony couldn’t tell why that was. It wasn’t like he had been fellating the spatula or anything – this time.

“Please stop traumatizing Captain America,” Clint said, swiping the spatula once Pepper was finished with it. He gave the buttercream a lick and then carried it off to the couch and sat down.

“Icing _hog_ ,” Rhodey said with a growl.

Pepper squinted at Clint in displeasure. “He gets to eat last.”

“Agreed,” Tony said.

 

 

“Well,” Rhodey said, rubbing his stomach. “I’m off to pack.” He stood up slowly, as though not quite sure he could manage it and groaned again, casting one last glance over his shoulder at the last of the truffles sitting on the table in their boxes.

Tony smirked and slumped closer to Bucky. “Go pack before the truffles knock you on your ass again.”

“Stupid truffles,” Rhodey grumbled to himself. He walked off to his room, and disappeared inside.

Bucky wrapped an arm around Tony and leaned a little heavier into the arm of the couch, his eyes heavy lidded. “What the hell are those things even made out of?” he asked, pointing lazily to the boxes of truffles.

“Truffles?” Tony said. “Metaphorically they’re made out of crack – realistically they’re made out of chocolate and cream.”

“We didn’t have anything like that back before,” Bucky said, his voice slightly slurred. “I mean – I didn’t get to try nothin’ that great.”

Tony beamed and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s chin. “Did you like them?”

“They’re almost too good,” Bucky said with a groan. “I don’t even remember how many I ate.”

“I know what you mean,” Pepper said. Her head was on Natasha’s shoulder and she looked like she was half-asleep the way she was sliding into Natasha’s lap. She yawned into Natasha’s neck, snuggling closer. “We should go to bed.”

“We should,” Natasha agreed with a smile. She stroked Pepper’s hair but didn’t stand, seemingly enjoying the calmness of the room too much to move.

“Well I don’t know about you guys,” Steve said, getting up from the couch, “But I’m going to head off to bed before I fall asleep sitting up.”

“Same here,” Clint said, getting up. He snagged another truffle and popped it into his mouth, chewing in a way that was both disgustingly obnoxious and loud at the same time. “Night, folks.”

“Night,” Clint said, following Steve to the elevator. They stepped inside and vanished.

Tony smiled, content with being wrapped up in Bucky’s arms. For a few seconds he allowed himself to forget that Rhodey was leaving in the morning.

Bucky kissed Tony’s cheek. “Want to head off to bed too?”

“Sure,” Tony said. He grunted in surprise when Bucky picked him up clean off the couch and let out a startled laugh when he realized what had happened. He had never been picked up bridal-style by anyone before – while sober – aside from when Rhodey had carried him out of a burning building with War Machine one particularly unlucky day, and it was a bit more arousing this time around. He swallowed hard, his face mashed against Bucky’s muscled chest, and tried not to squirm too noticeably in Bucky’s grasp.

“Is this ok?” Bucky murmured, still standing beside the couch.

“It’s very ok, judging by the look on his face,” Pepper said, grinning knowingly at Tony.

Tony groaned and hid his face before he could completely embarrass himself by making some kind of godawful squeal of pleasure. “It’s good – fine. It’s fine. Take me to bed.”

“You sure?” Bucky said, hesitating.

“Take me to bed,” Tony ordered. “Save me from myself.”

Pepper chuckled as she watched them walk off. “Good night, Tony,” she called out.

“Night Pepper,” Tony mumbled into Bucky’s chest.

 

 

What started as a make-out session ended in Tony and Bucky falling asleep wrapped up in each other’s embrace, snoring like chainsaws. Despite their bodies urging them to move on to other activities, their brains were both too fogged by sugar to do anything other than slip off into sleep.

Tony didn’t mind. There would be time for everything later; he wasn’t in any rush, and he knew Bucky wasn’t either.

When Tony awoke again, however, it was for an unpleasant reason. The nightmare that had torn him from his comfortable sleep had been brutal, filled with more blood and gore than he would have wished on even his worst enemy; he panted, shaking uncontrollably as adrenaline tried to help him fight the imaginary foe that had been attacking him. He could still see flashes of Rhodey’s battered and bruised body – could still see the blood at every blink. He shuddered, his clothing soaked through with sweat, and held on to Bucky’s shirt as tightly as he could, unsure of what else to do.

Bucky’s voice was soft, filled with understanding. “Was it a bad one?”

“Yes,” Tony mumbled.

Bucky cradled Tony against chest. “It’s ok, doll,” he said. “It’s over. It was just a dream.”

Tony let out a choked sob and tugged at Bucky’s shirt. “You know,” he said through sniffles, “You’d think I’d be used to this shit by now.”

“I don’t think anyone ever gets used to those kind of nightmares,” Bucky said, his voice soft. “I know I haven’t.”

Tony sat up slowly, plucking at his sweat-slick clothing. He wrinkled his nose and wiped his eyes. “Fuck,” he said, as he felt the sodden fabric.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Bucky murmured. He slipped free from the sweat-sticky blankets and sheets and rolled them back in one giant mass.

Tony stepped shakily out of bed to stand beside Bucky. He shuddered and tugged at his shirt again, his mind still filled with Rhodey’s agonized screams. “I could have stopped it,” he said, his eyes closed, rocking back on his heels. “I could have stopped it.” He opened his eyes again and all he could see was the betrayal on Rhodey’s face. “I should have stopped it.”

Bucky carried the balled up sheets and blankets over to the clothing hamper in the corner of the room and stuffed everything inside. He returned to Tony and guided him over to the bed again, fingers tangling in Tony’s damp shirt. “Let’s get this off, ok?”

Tony nodded numbly. He didn’t deserve to have someone so nice here with him, but Bucky didn’t seem to be leaving and maybe that was alright – maybe that was a good thing.

Bucky was gentle, even though he had to wrestle the shirt off of Tony’s unresisting body. He tossed the sweat-soaked shirt onto the clothing hamper and then pulled open the dresser, hunting around inside for something clean.

Tony shivered; he wrapped his arms around himself as goosebumps broke out over his skin. He shuddered and swallowed down a scream, trying to force himself to believe that he wasn’t dreaming anymore. Rhodey was fine – everyone was safe. Hydra didn’t have them anymore. There wasn’t any Chair here – there was just his bedroom, and Bucky. He was fine. He was in the tower. Everything was fine. “Bucky?” he called out, his voice wavering.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Bucky said, turning slightly so he could look at Tony through his bangs.

Tony swallowed hard again, tasting bile. “Are you mad at me?”

Bucky frowned. “For what?”

“I couldn’t get you out of there,” Tony said, his words so mumbled he could barely hear them himself.

“I’m not mad at you,” Bucky said, tugging an oversized t-shirt out from underneath a pile of sweat pants. He padded over to Tony, soundless as a cat on carpet, and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to Tony’s lips. “I’m not mad. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were dreaming, remember?”

Tony leaned against Bucky, shivering as he leeched Bucky’s warmth, feeling guilty all the while.

Bucky kissed Tony’s forehead and tossed the shirt onto the bare mattress. “It wasn’t your fault, Tony,” he said. He stroked Tony’s back with his flesh-and-blood hand and grimaced when his finger slid over Tony’s sticky skin. “Let me get a washcloth,” he said. “This must be pretty uncomfortable, huh?”

“Don’t leave,” Tony blurted out as Bucky turned to go into the bathroom.

Bucky nearly tripped as he stopped moving mid-step. He hurried back to Tony, wrapping his arms around him and pulled him close, tucking Tony under his chin. “I’m not leaving,” he said. “It’s ok. Let’s go together, alright?”

Tony nodded feverishly, leaning against Bucky. He had never noticed that he wasn’t quite Bucky’s height, and found that the way he fit against Bucky pleased him in a way that he hadn’t thought about before; here, wrapped in Bucky’s arms, tucked against Bucky’s chest, he felt safe again. They walked together into the bathroom, with Bucky acting as their eyes. Tony’s shivers turned violent when his bare feet hit the bathroom floor.

“Jarvis?” Bucky said, leading Tony to the little circle of bathmat beside the shower. “Can you turn the heat up a bit until Tony’s dry again?”

“Certainly, sir,” Jarvis said.

Tony closed his eyes; he listened to the sound of water cascading into the sink and shuddered as Bucky stepped away to wring out a washcloth. He was silent as the soft, wet, washcloth was dragged across his back, between his shoulder blades, and worried that if he spoke, the feeling of being safe and loved would disappear like a bubble being popped.

Bucky ran the washcloth over the back of Tony’s neck and scrubbed at the short, coarse hairs there. “Turn around, sweetheart.”

Tony turned, but refused to let his fingers leave Bucky’s shirt. He held onto the fabric tightly, aware only of the fabric against his skin and Bucky’s warmth.

Bucky’s breath was soft on Tony’s cheek. He daubed at Tony’s goosebump speckled stomach, pressing kisses to Tony’s cheek as he did. “Feeling better?” he asked as he wiped the last of the sweat away.

“Yes,” Tony said.

“Want to change your pants too?” Bucky asked.

“Ok,” Tony said, his words mumbled. He slumped against Bucky and stepped out of his pants as Bucky tugged them down and off. Normally, he thought with a whimpered snort, he would be all about someone he liked taking off his pants, but right now he wasn’t interested in sex. Right now, all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and go back to sleep.

Bucky gave Tony a quick wipe down with the washcloth again after he peeled Tony out of his underwear. He shuffled them back to the bedroom and helped Tony dress, smoothing down the shirt as it fell in place. “Better?” he asked again as he nudged Tony backwards towards the mattress once Tony was fully dressed.

“Thank you,” Tony said.

“Do you have spare sheets around?” Bucky asked, glancing over his shoulder again.

“They’re in the closet,” Tony said, sitting down on the mattress. He rested his elbows on his knees and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. I’m supposed to be a grown up.”

“What does being grown up have to do with it?” Bucky asked as he pulled open the closet and poked his head inside. He disappeared for a moment, and his absence made Tony want to call out for him again.

Tony rocked back, shaking his head, wishing he could forget about the dream. Why did the nightmares never seem to want to stop? Was he being punished? Was that it?

“Tony?” Bucky said, reappearing. He had a handful of deep purple sheets and a thick red blanket tucked under his arm. He carried his haul over to the bed and set everything down before wrapping his arms around Tony again; he sighed softly as Tony’s fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt again. “It’s alright.”

“I know it is,” Tony said through gritted teeth. He swallowed down a mouthful of bile again and let himself be manhandled off of the bed. He stood beside Bucky, feeling utterly useless.

Bucky made short work of getting the bed back in order, even though he kept his flesh-and-blood hand in Tony’s the entire time. When he was finished, satisfied with the nest he had built, he pulled Tony under the covers and curled up behind him, holding him. “He’ll be alright,” he said. “Rhodey – he’ll be alright. He’s strong.”

“He’s human,” Tony said.

“But he’s got your War Machine,” Bucky said. “He’ll be alright.”

Tony slumped, the last of his fear slipping away. Bucky was right. Rhodey had War Machine. He would be safe – it would protect him. “Thank you,” he said.

Bucky pressed a kiss to the back of Tony’s head. “I’ll take care of you. I promise. Nothing bad is going to happen to you again.”

“You can’t promise that,” Tony murmured, eye lids fluttering as sleep tugged at him. He hoped to whatever gods ruled the universe that his dreams would be either absent or safe to wander.

“I know,” Bucky said. “But I can try.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :D


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodey's departure made Tony want to curl up in a ball, but there was nothing he could do.

Tony woke up feeling as though something horrible had tried to nest in his mouth overnight; he coughed, licked his dry lips and rubbed at his crusty eyes, praying that something would change. Nope. It was no good. Nothing was different and he still didn’t want to get up. Damn it!

“Rhodey’s waiting for you,” Bucky said, his voice rumbling through Tony’s body from behind him.

Tony groaned and tried to burrow underneath the blankets again. He felt like he hadn’t slept at all, and yet he knew from a quick check of Extremis’ internal clock that he had in fact slept for over three hours. Rhodey was probably up by now – it wouldn’t be fair to keep him waiting – and yet he couldn’t seem to drag himself out of bed. Even with Extremis, he felt exhausted.

Bucky gave Tony’s shoulder a gentle shake. “Time to get up, doll,” he murmured.

“I know,” Tony groaned in despair, hugging his pillow.

“Rhodey’s missed breakfast,” Bucky said. “You’ve gotta get moving, or you’re going to miss him leaving.”

Tony’s eyes snapped open. “ _Shit_.” He forced himself upright even though his limbs felt like they were being weighed down by anchors and staggered towards the door at a tilt; he didn’t get far. He stumbled as his knees locked up and cursed as the floor zoomed up to meet him. He lucked out; he didn’t fall on his face. Bucky scooped him up.

“Have I told you how much I love you yet?” Tony asked, his face smooshed against Bucky’s broad chest.

Bucky chuckled and carried Tony out into the living room. “Not yet, but it’s good to hear,” he said.

Rhodey looked up from where he was sitting on the couch in the living room; he was leaning against it as though he was hoping it would swallow him whole, seemingly resigned to his fate. He yawned when he heard them approaching and smirked to himself as Bucky set Tony down on the couch beside him. “I see we’re all having the same shit-ass morning,” he said.

“We are?” Tony grumbled, slumping against Rhodey’s shoulder.

“We are,” Natasha said. She carried Pepper into the room slung over her shoulder, not even seeming to notice the extra weight and paused only to nod at Bucky, who nodded back at her, grinning. She set Pepper down beside Tony and retreated to stand beside Bucky, shaking her head. “How is it that you three seem to share a brain some days?”

“I don’t know,” Pepper groaned, slumping against Tony’s shoulder.

Tony grunted into Rhodey’s shoulder.

Rhodey groaned and closed his eyes.

“You do realize you have to leave in ten minutes, right Rhodes?” Bucky said.

Rhodey scowled. “I hate you. Leave me alone to die in peace.”

“Uh huh,” Natasha drawled. She settled her hands on her hips. “You now have nine minutes and thirty seconds – make good use of it.”

Tony scowled and wrapped his arms around Rhodey’s middle. “Don’t leave.”

“Stay,” Pepper said, sprawling across Tony’s lap so she could grab Rhodey’s arm from around Tony.

“I wish I could,” Rhodey said with a sigh.

“You had breakfast without us,” Tony said accusingly. “What did you eat? Did you have pancakes?”

“I didn’t have jack-shit,” Rhodey growled, leaning against Tony. He patted Pepper’s hand. “I’m only sitting out here because Natasha and Bucky hauled me out of my bed. I slept right through my alarm.”

Tony let out an ungodly snort and pressed his face into Rhodey’s neck. “Oh my god.”

Pepper’s giggle bordered on hysterical. “You’re kidding.”

Rhodey scowled. “Don’t laugh at me. I couldn’t sleep at all last night.”

“Same here,” Tony said.

“Me too,” Pepper said.

“We’re a bunch of giant babies,” Rhodey said.

“Yep,” Tony said.

“Pretty much,” Pepper said.

“I have to _pee_ ,” Rhodey said mournfully.

“Me too,” Pepper said, her face mashed against Tony’s shoulder.

“Me too,” Tony said, his face still smooshed into Rhodey’s neck. “Did you pack everything last night?”

“Yep,” Rhodey said. “War Machine’s crated up and waiting in a van in the parking lot. My bag’s down there already – left it there last night so I wouldn’t have to worry about forgetting anything. Thanks for the upgrades, by the way.”

“Not a problem,” Tony said, giving Rhodey a lazy thumbs-up. “Let me know if you need any more.”

“Sure,” Rhodey said with a snort. “Like I’d do anything else. You’re the only one I trust for upgrades.”

“Aww,” Tony said. “You’re sweet.”

“I’m smart,” Rhodey said. “I mean, the Gatling gun was a good upgrade, but everything else blew chunks.”

“Well you did get the upgrades from Hammer,” Tony said. “The Gatling gun worked because he didn’t design it – he just stapled it to your shoulder.”

Rhodey grinned. “ _Exactly_.”

“Someone’s going with you to the airfield, right?” Pepper asked.

“Steve’s going to drive me while Thor keeps an eye on things from up above,” Rhodey said.

“We could come with you,” Pepper said.

“I can suit up,” Tony offered.

“You two are staying here,” Rhodey said, firmly. He looped an arm around Tony’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze, holding Pepper’s dainty hand in his other hand. “I’m sure a super soldier and god will be more than enough to get my ass to an airfield.”

“But,” Tony began.

“No buts,” Rhodey said. He squinted down at Tony. “And no giggling because I said buts.”

Tony scowled.

“Meanie,” Pepper grumbled.

Rhodey glanced over at Natasha. “How much time do I have?”

“Three minutes,” Natasha said.

Rhodey groaned. “Damn it.”

“I still say you should just stay here and be my bodyguard,” Tony said, refusing to let go of Rhodey when Rhodey looked like he was going to try and stand up. “Tell your mom I made you do it. She already thinks I’m an asshole. We could totally pull it off.”

“She does not think you are an asshole,” Rhodey said with a chuckle. “She’d see through that in a heartbeat.” He slipped his arm away from Tony, wiggling free from the death-grip hug and slipped his hand from Pepper’s vice-like grip so he could stand. “Ok. You know the rules – we say goodbye up here and no one cries.”

“Too late,” Tony muttered, wiping at his eyes.

“Much, much, too late,” Pepper said with a sniffle.

“ _Assholes_ ,” Rhodey said, wiping his eyes on his arm.

Natasha smiled over at Bucky. “I told you someone would be bawling by the time they were done,” she said.

“I guess I owe you five bucks,” Bucky said.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “We both know you have no money,” she said. She pointed at the kitchen, her expression stern. “Go get that care package you made for him before he’s too blinded by tears to see it.”

“Care package?” Rhodey said, wiping furiously at his eyes. Tony and Pepper did the same.

Bucky disappeared inside the fridge and remerged holding a white plastic container with a dark blue lid. He shut the fridge door and carried the container over to Rhodey. “I figured you’d be too dead on your feet to eat,” he said. “So I packed you some cake.”

Rhodey smiled at Bucky, his eyes now brimming with tears. He accepted the cake as though it was delicate, liable to break by rough handling, and held it against him. “Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat. He wiped at his eyes again. “Do me a favor – keep an eye on these two and make sure nothing happens to them, ok?”

“Sure,” Bucky said.

“You too, Romanoff,” Rhodey said.

“You know I’d never let anything happen to our idiots,” Natasha said, her voice soft.

“Good,” Rhodey said. He nodded to Tony and Pepper. “Ok. I guess this is it.”

“Call us before you leave for your super-secret-mission,” Tony demanded as Rhodey shuffled over to the elevator.

“And call us when you get back,” Pepper ordered.

The elevator doors opened. Rhodey smiled grimly at Tony and Pepper. “Alright – see you two dorks later,” he said.

“You’d better,” Tony said with a growl.

Rhodey locked eyes with Bucky. “And you’d better keep baking,” he said.

“Will do,” Bucky said, smiling crookedly. “Keep yourself in one piece.”

“I’ll try,” Rhodey said.

The elevator doors closed.

Pepper slumped against Tony, her face buried in his shoulder. She sniffled, the sound so loud it was audible across the room. “He’d better keep himself safe, because if he dies, I’m going to resurrect him and kill him myself.”

“And I’ll help you research the dark arts to do that,” Tony said, wiping his nose on his shirt-sleeve. He wrapped his arms around Pepper, holding her close. He didn’t know what he would do if he lost her or Rhodey. He had known loss before – his parents, and then Jarvis’ – but this wouldn’t be the same. He couldn’t lose Pepper or Rhodey. He couldn’t lose Bucky either. Or the team. He started outright sobbing, unable to hold his grief in any longer. Pepper started crying too, her sobs choked off and shrill.

“It’s ok,” Bucky murmured, approaching the couch as if afraid fast movement might startle Tony and Pepper into fleeing.

Tony leaned into Bucky’s arms as Bucky hugged him from behind; Natasha wrapped her arms around him and Pepper both from the other side, grumbling to herself about stupidity and tears and then something about how she hated crying.

Tony couldn’t tell what happened after that. He was aware of being picked up – of being manhandled and having his hair stroked by a worried looking Natasha – and then everything was soft and warm and he was finally, blessedly, asleep.

 

 

Tony woke up, his mind fogged by sleep.

“It’s alright,” Bucky murmured from somewhere beside Tony. “It all went as planned. He made it to the airfield and landed on base a few minutes ago. He’s fine,” he said.

Tony closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

 

 

Tony woke again when Pepper crawled into his bed. He could tell it was her because she smelled faintly like Natasha, and he knew that no one else would have the guts to smell even _remotely_ like Natasha – as bizarre as that sounded. He groaned and covered his face with his arm, mumbling something he assumed was intelligent and suave.

He was wrong.

“What did you say?” Pepper asked, spooning up behind Tony. She pulled the blankets over her and cuddled close, wrapping an arm around Tony’s waist, burying her face in his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Tony said, his voice still muffled by his arm. “Something happen to Rhodey?”

“Rhodey’s fine,” Pepper said. “He phoned in to say he’s off on his super-secret-mission a few hours ago.”

“And you didn’t wake me up?” Tony asked. He felt like he had been slapped across the face. Why hadn’t someone woken him up?

“They tried,” Pepper said, softly patting Tony’s stomach, “but you were dead to the world. I wasn’t awake either – Natasha and Bucky took the call.”

“Oh,” Tony mumbled, feeling foolish. He should have known they would have at least tried to wake him up before taking the call.

“I know. I feel bad about it too, but apparently Rhodey was happy we were asleep and not panicking,” Pepper murmured. “And I hate to drop more news on you when you’re barely awake, but there isn’t much time left and I’ve got to get this out before we both nod off.”

Tony was immediately alert. “What’s going on?”

“Edwards has been at it again,” Pepper said.

Tony groaned. “What did that bastard do _now_?”

“He’s called an emergency meeting. Word got out that some of our facilities were broken into and despite assurances that everything is fine, he’s demanding that the Board be briefed so they can make their own plans,” Pepper said. “Waters tried to get him to back off, but Morris and Chen have decided to back Edwards up and they’ve all been raising a stink.”

“How long do we have till the meeting?” Tony said.

“The meeting’s scheduled for ten p.m.,” Pepper said.

“And what time is it now?” Tony said with a groan.

“It’s 8,” Pepper said.

Tony groaned louder, burying his head under the blankets.

“I know,” Pepper said, patting Tony’s stomach again. “I don’t want to get up yet either, but if we want to show up looking like we’re in charge, we’ve got to get ready now.”

“I didn’t get any dry-cleaning done,” Tony said. “I’m going to look like I crawled out from under a rock.”

“You’ve got plenty of clothing to pick through in your emergency stash,” Pepper said. She rolled away and flipped the blankets up and off of herself, leaving Tony’s body exposed to the air.

Tony let out a pained whine and tried to worm his way back under the blankets.

Pepper let out a long, hissed sigh. “Don’t start.”

“I don’t want to get up,” Tony muttered.

“I don’t want to either,” Pepper said with a growl. “But we have to, so you’d better get your ass up before I have to drag you out of that lovely bed of yours.”

Tony scowled. “You’re _cruel_.”

“I need to put my face on, and so do you,” Pepper said. She snapped her fingers. “Up. We need to look pretty and like we’re capable of murdering people with a look.”

Tony sighed wearily and stood up. “Fine. But I’m not going to enjoy this.”

“No one will,” Pepper said, grimly. “But if it means we hand Edwards his ass, I’m all for losing sleep.”

 

 

They went down to the board room after dressing and eating a quick meal scrounged from the leftovers. Pepper led the way down the hall, her heels clicking sharply; she let Tony push open the doors and then made her way to their seats at the head of the table with Tony at her side.

Tony looked around the board room table, keeping his expression neutral, pretending he hadn’t just been woken up. There were a dozen disposable coffee cups sitting on the table, and almost every member of the board looked like they had just had the shit scared out of them. He wasn’t surprised. He would have been pretty fucking scared too if he had just found out that a company he had millions of dollar invested in had been broken into by some unknown thief; there was a lot to worry about – a lot of things that could go wrong with Stark Tech in the wrong hands – and a billion different lawsuits could pop up because of it. For people obsessed with money, that was a terrifying thing to ponder, let alone face.

Edwards locked eyes with Tony. His usually impeccable suit was wrinkled to hell, and his spray-tanned skin seemed paler than usual; there were dark rings around his eyes and toothpaste on his chin. “You knew about this?” he said with a growl, slamming a fist on the table.

The other members of the board jumped in their seats, startled by the sudden sound and then sat back, seemingly content to let Edwards do their shouting for them.

Tony didn’t react. He kept his expression flat as he spoke, as though this was something he discussed every day. “The break-ins have been taken care of,” he said. “There wasn’t anything to report other than that the perpetrator had been apprehended.”

“You don’t even know that bitch’s _name_ , Stark,” Edwards snapped. “Don’t you _dare_ try to tell me that you have things under control!”

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “I didn’t think I would have to be the one to say this, but watch your _language_.”

Edwards’ eyes narrowed. “You’re focusing on _language_? That’s what you heard? We had someone break into our facilities and you’re worried about my language? Fuck you!”

“You’re being disrespectful to every woman in this room,” Tony said, calmly. “And if you can’t keep what you say respectful I’m going to have to ask you to get the fuck out of my boardroom.”

“Agreed,” Waters said, her arms crossed over her chest.

Half of the remaining board members nodded along – even Chen and Morris seemed cowed by Tony’s threat.

Edwards fumed and closed his mouth, glaring at Tony as though hoping his gaze could somehow cause Tony to spontaneously combust or perhaps explode.

“As I was saying,” Tony said, “I have been monitoring the situation and I see no reason for worry. The suspect has been apprehended and is currently in SHIELD custody. She won’t be a problem.”

“You’d better hope not,” Davidson said, his voice a raspy hiss. “Our money is at stake, Stark. This better not be something you plan to hand off to some _peon at SHIELD_. You’d better be handling it _yourself_.”

“I said I’m handling it,” Tony said. “If you have a problem with me keeping an eye on things, then please – feel free to insist on someone else watching over my shoulder. Someone from SHIELD would be willing to do it, I’m sure.”

A ripple went through the board – a ripple of shudders.

Pepper smiled sharply. “You don’t want SHIELD watching what we do?”

“Fuck no,” Waters said. She grimaced. “No. I do _not_ want some SHIELD agent looking into our files – even if we have nothing to hide. This is our company – not some elementary school student’s book report.”

“Agreed,” Tony said. “I’d rather not have someone outside of the company poking around in our business.”

“I don’t want someone who might be a part of Hydra anywhere near us,” Waters said. “No SHIELD agents – just you, Stark.”

The board went deathly still.

Tony smiled broadly. He hadn’t even had to bring up _that_ delightful tidbit. “Exactly,” he said. “I’m sure SHIELD has been cleaned out of Hydra agents in their ranks, but with the way things are going, you never know what might be on the horizon.” He hoped that Hydra rearing their heads within SHIELD wasn’t a possibility ever again, but he knew better than most that Hydra was very good at staying hidden in plain sight.

“And you’re sure the break-ins won’t happen again?” Edwards asked, sitting up stiffly.

“Security has been increased and all sites are being watched,” Tony said. “Frankly, there’s no way to prevent someone from attacking us – it’s a fact of life.”

“You’re saying you’re _expecting_ an attack?” Edwards said, standing up.

“Of course,” Tony said, clasping his hands on the table in front of him. “Attacks are inevitable – they come from our competition on a regular basis. You have heard of _corporate espionage_ , haven’t you?”

Edwards face turned bright red. “Of course I have! I’m not toddler!”

“Then you understand that there is no way to prevent an attack,” Tony said. “All we can do is provide the company with the best defence possible. And that is what I have done.”

The members of the board let out a collective sigh of relief, sagging in their seats.

“Now,” Tony said. “Is there anything else you’d like to discuss – we haven’t taken quorum or made any resolutions. Should we do that now?”

“Where were you?” Waters asked.

“Excuse me?” Tony said.

“Where were you after the break-ins,” Waters said. “We were expecting a briefing but nothing appeared – that’s why we’re here tonight, Mr. Stark, when we would all so obviously rather be at home.”

Tony sighed. “That’s classified,” he said.

“Avengers business?” Waters asked.

“Yes,” Tony said. He could have told them about the kidnapping – about the real reason why he hadn’t left the building in so long – but he didn’t really want them to know. The last time he had been kidnapped and held hostage in Afghanistan, they had thought he was too weak to continue, and while that had been mostly because of Obie’s poking and nudging, he didn’t want a repeat performance from Edwards. For now, he would keep things classified and if he had to admit it later, well, he would deal with it then.

“Was Hydra involved?” Waters asked.

Tony swallowed around the lump in his throat and kept calm, not wanting his answer to spook the board any more than they already were. He hated how sharp Waters was. There was never a way to get anything past her. “Individuals from a certain unwanted group were involved, yes. I can’t say any more – it’s classified.”

Edwards scowled. “So it’s Hydra then,” he said. “Fantastic.”

“I thought they were all locked up?” Davidson asked, looking nervously around the board. “The reports SHIELD has been sending out to the media are that Hydra is gone. Why would they be going after us?”

“Aside from the fact that we’re the top tech company in the world?” Waters said with a derisive snort.

An uneasy murmur broke out as board members looked around at one another. None of them seemed happy about the news, but they also didn’t seem too surprised to hear it either; clearly, they understood the very basics and Tony was glad that he didn’t have to spoon-feed them anything else. He had never thought that they were completely hopeless – just slightly confused at times. They were certainly greedy as fuck but most of the people on the board were good people – when they wanted to be.

“So,” Pepper said. “Is that all?”

“I believe so,” Richardson said. “If we have questions, we will hold another meeting – and I expect you to be around this time, Stark.”

Tony smiled brightly. “I’ll be there.”

“You’d better be,” Waters said. “No one here wants to see you get yourself in hot water.”

“Agreed,” Pepper said, softly.

 

 

Tony pulled his tie off in the elevator, letting out a loud groan. Pepper unbuttoned her collar and leaned against his shoulder, hanging her head.

“I really hate the board sometimes,” Pepper muttered.

“Only sometimes?” Tony teased. He wrapped his tie around his hand and slung his arm over Pepper’s shoulder. “Jarvis? Where’s Bucky?”

“He is currently in your workshop, sir,” Jarvis said.

Tony tensed. “Did something happen?”

“You left the penthouse, sir,” Jarvis said dryly.

Tony scowled. “Did I get myself into trouble?”

“I believe Mr. Barnes felt that heading to your workshop was the best place to head so he could meet you when you came back,” Jarvis said.

“How long has he been waiting for me?” Tony asked, running his fingers through his hair.

“He arrived at your workshop shortly after you departed for your emergency board meeting,” Jarvis said. “He has been there ever since.”

“Great,” Tony muttered. He hadn’t meant to leave without telling Bucky, but he also hadn’t expected to be missed after only a few hours. He probably should have left a note or said something before he left.

“I’ll see you later,” Pepper said as the elevator stopped at the workshop’s floor. She pressed a kiss to Tony’s cheek. “Have fun – and thank you for keeping them calm.”

“You could have done it too,” Tony said with a grumble, stepping out of the elevator.

“I could have,” Pepper agreed, “But then I would have had to face the down alone and I’d much rather have you with me.”

Tony chuckled. “Good point. I’m glad you were there too,” he said.

“Go woo your boyfriend, hot stuff,” Pepper said with a smile.

“Will do,” Tony said. He gave Pepper a sloppy salute as the doors closed and headed into his workshop.

Bucky was curled up on the couch, snoring loudly. Dummy was sitting beside him, watching him sleep.

Tony chuckled. “Having a good time, buddy?” he said, patting Dummy on the hand.

Bucky grumbled in his sleep and rolled over, curling on his side.

Well, at least Bucky didn’t look too put out – at least, he didn’t look like he was mad - yet. Tony squinted down at Bucky, his hands on his hips. What would be the best way to address the problem at hand? Should he just crawl onto the couch with Bucky and worry about he consequences later?

“You going to stay up there all night?” Bucky asked.

Tony dropped his tie, startled. “Sweet mother of fuck,” he said, taking a step back, his hand over his heart.

Bucky opened one eye. “What?”

“Nothing,” Tony said, patting his chest, wishing he could get his traitorous heart to stop beating so goddamned fast.

“Did I scare you, sweetheart?” Bucky asked with a drawl. He rolled over and grinned up at Tony.

“Goddamned super soldiers and their super hearing,” Tony muttered.

Bucky reached up and pulled Tony down for a kiss. “There,” he said, easing Tony down onto the couch beside him, fingers brushing over the wrinkles in Tony’s once pristine suit. “You look fantastic in a suit. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“A few people,” Tony said, shucking his jacket. He tossed it over his shoulder, letting it hit Dummy’s arm and leaned in to kiss Bucky again.

“I made you peach oatmeal muffins,” Bucky said in between kisses.

“Oh yeah?” Tony said, pushing Bucky down onto the couch.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, slightly breathless. He grinned as Tony straddled his hips and reached up to stroke Tony’s face. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Tony murmured, his hands settling on Bucky’s chest. He trailed his fingers over Bucky’s shirt, following the seams. “We should go upstairs.”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? You got something planned?”

“I’d rather not fool around with the bots watching us,” Tony said grinning.

Bucky let out a barked laugh, his cheeks flushing.

“We don’t have to fool around if you’re not ready for that though,” Tony said quickly.

Bucky smiled softly. “Who said I wasn’t ready?”

Tony ran his hand over Bucky’s chest again. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this – you know?”

Bucky’s smile didn’t falter. “You’re a sweetheart for asking,” he said, cupping Tony’s face again. “You know we can fool around without it leading to sex, right?”

Tony grinned widely. “I know,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure _you_ knew that too.”

“Good,” Bucky said. He pulled Tony down for another kiss.

 

 

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

Tony sighed. He had just drifted off, too, after a long and perfectly drawn out make-out session that had left him panting and squirming. He was happy to simply cuddle, free from thinking about anything other than the way Bucky felt pressed up against him, but apparently the world wanted him awake at all goddamn hours of the night no matter what _he_ wanted.

Bucky groaned, his arms wrapping tightly around Tony. “Why is your AI always waking us up?”

“Beats me,” Tony muttered darkly. “I didn’t program him to do it.”

“My apologies, sir,” Jarvis said, sounding weary, “But Captain Rogers is requesting a meeting with the two of you and he seems adamant about you attending immediately.”

“Great,” Tony said.

“We could ignore him,” Bucky said.

“Have you actually managed to do that _ever_?” Tony asked.

“I don’t know,” Bucky said. “But there’s always a first time for everything, right?”

“Sadly,” Jarvis said. “I do not believe today is your day. Captain Rogers has asked me to inform you that he has prepared dinner and that he expects you to attend his briefing.”

“Briefing?” Tony said, sitting up slowly. Bucky slid down Tony’s back until he had his face pressed up against Tony’s hip.

“I don’t want to get up – tell him he can brief us another time,” Bucky muttered, his lips brushing against Tony’s ticklish skin.

Trying not to laugh, Tony ruffled Bucky’s hair. “You obviously haven’t tried ignoring Steve recently.”

“I avoided him for a year and a half,” Bucky said with a grunt. “That counts as recent, right?”

“But now he knows where you are, and I highly doubt that you’re going to be able to avoid him this time,” Tony said.

“We could lock the doors,” Bucky said, drumming his fingers on Tony’s hip, just above the waistband of his pants.

“I wonder if that would work,” Tony said, stroking Bucky’s hair. It was _extremely_ tempting to ignore Steve entirely and leave the briefing for later; it wasn’t like the information was pressing, after all – if it was, Steve wouldn’t be inviting them to _dinner_.

“Sir,” Jarvis said. “I feel it is my duty to remind you that Captain Rogers has an emergency override code and can, in fact, get into your workshop even if you lock the doors.”

Tony sighed. “I forgot about that,” he said. “I guess we’re going to get up, eat and listen to Steve tell the team about what’s going on – and _then_ we’re going to go to bed.”

“Going to bed sounds good to me,” Bucky said, pushing himself upright. He adjusted his shirt to hide the rather impressive hickey on his neck and then began picking cat hair from his pants. “Is this from me?”

“That it is,” Tony said, smiling fondly down at the handful of fluff Bucky was holding out.

“Should I keep it?” Bucky asked.

“Nah,” Tony said. “I’m sure there’s more where that came from.”

Bucky hummed softly. “Do you think about cats anymore?”

Tony shrugged. He had indeed thought about getting a cat – a real cat, this time – but he hadn’t made up his mind about what to do. Part of him wanted to check out the cat Bucky had looked at online in the workshop; the smarter half of him reminded him that he wasn’t supposed to know about what Bucky had looked at. “I wouldn’t mind getting one,” he said, heaving himself upright.

“Yeah?” Bucky said, following Tony’s lead. He stood up and trailed behind Tony as they made their way to the elevator. “It would be fine with you? Because I know it’s a big step – getting a cat. It’s kind of like having a kid with someone.”

Tony’s brain froze and rebooted slowly. _Children_? They hadn’t been dating that long – he hadn’t even begun to _ponder_ having children. He didn’t really think he would make that great of a father – not that he would intentionally do something bad, of course, because he wasn’t going to be _his_ father _ever_ , even by accident. He was never going to be Howard Stark – and if he did end up like that piece of shit, he would gladly throw himself off the top of the Tower. _Children_. Fuck – _children_. Bucky was thinking about children?

They stepped into the elevator together.

“Having a kid _does_ sound like a big step,” Tony said, floundering. He cleared his throat and glanced at Bucky’s reflection in the elevator doors as the elevator sent them up to the penthouse. Maybe he was reading things wrong – that was it. He was hearing things wrong. No one would want to raise kids with him. Fuck no. Cleary, this was a misunderstanding.

“I mean, getting a cat’s not really like having a kid,” Bucky said quickly. “It’s just a cat.”

“Right,” Tony said, his voice strained. “A cat.” Yes – it was a cat, not a kid. Oh thank _fuck_. Heart attack averted. He licked his now dry lips and swallowed hard, hoping Bucky couldn’t tell that he had just sweat clean through the armpits of his shirt. A cat. Well that certainly changed things. A cat was still stressful – still a big jump for a relationship but it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as deciding to have a kid. He hadn’t thought about having a pet with someone before. This was new. Peggs might have started out as Jarvis’ cat, but she had been his and his alone once she had moved into his house. Was having a cat really a responsibility he wanted to share? Was it a duty he could manage alone if things went bad? Not that he _expected_ it to – or at least, he hoped to fuck it wouldn’t. Realistically he knew he could do it – it wasn’t like he was so possessive he would hiss at Bucky and run off with their cat clutched against his chest like Gollum holding the one ring – but a part of him wondered if he _should_ take that step so quickly. They were Avengers. Avengers didn’t exactly get a lot of time to themselves – although he could probably get away with having a cat considering how independent most of them were. Should they get one? What would the team think?

“Tony?” Bucky said, hesitantly.

“Hm?” Tony said. They had plenty of space so it wasn’t like they’d be tripping over an animal, and he was used to picking hair out of his mouth or off of his clothes. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. He did like cats, after all – loved them – and maybe having a little fur-baby around would do Bucky some good. Cats were good helpers for stress after all.

“Did I say something wrong?” Bucky asked. His hands were clenched at his sides, and he was stiff as a board.

Tony slung his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek quickly. “No – you didn’t say anything wrong. I was just thinking about the logistics of having a cat,” he said. “Sorry – I disappeared into my head a bit there, didn’t I?”

Bucky leaned against Tony, wrapping his arm around Tony’s waist; his fingers found their way through Tony’s belt loops and stayed there, holding on as though there was a possibility of Tony running off on him. “Yeah?” he said, his voice soft. “What do you think we’d need? I mean – _hypothetically_ speaking. I’ve never owned a pet before – let alone a cat. Well – that’s not entirely true.”

“Oh?” Tony asked, smiling softly.

“Steve used to feed this stray cat we found outside our building. He used to save the fat from his meat and feed it to the little lady,” Bucky said. He chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know why that’s the one big thing I remember from before the train.”

“Memories can be weird like that,” Tony said. He squeezed Bucky’s hand. “I’m sure things will come back to you eventually – bigger things than a teeny tiny Steve feeding cats in a back alley.”

Bucky sighed. “I hope so.” He leaned against Tony again, and cleared his throat. “I mean – it’s a good memory. Cats and all – seems nice. Like something we should do. Maybe.”

“Well,” Tony said slowly, slipping his hand over top of Bucky’s so he could drum his fingers there on Bucky’s knuckles, needing to touch him, “I’ve still got all of the stuff I ordered in when your furry behind graced my presence. So _hypothetically_ speaking, I could just bring it all up from storage – it’s not like you’re going to use it again.”

“True,” Bucky said.

“And I mean, I already know pretty much all there is to know about cats,” Tony continued. “I’m not saying it would be a picnic, because sometimes they puke and when they’re feeling in the right mood they might take a crap on things, but it wouldn’t be the worst decision I’ve made in the world. There are a lot of animals out there who need homes and we’ve got the space.”

“I mean, there’s no rush,” Bucky said quickly.

“Did you have one in mind?” Tony asked.

“Maybe,” Bucky said.

“We don’t have to make a decision about our hypothetical cat yet,” Tony said with a chuckle.

Bucky scowled. “I know, I know. Just – keep it in mind, alright? We can think about it later.”

“Sure,” Tony said.

 

 

They stepped out into the penthouse as the doors opened and strode into the kitchen to find Steve waiting for them at the kitchen table. Every last bit of leftover food they had amassed the day before was spread out on serving trays on the table; what needed to be heated was already warm and steaming, and what wasn’t was waiting to be served with tongs and serving spoons. Beside the feast sat three empty plates, each with their own fork.

Tony licked his lips as his stomach grumbled in displeasure at having been ignored. Now _this_ was something he didn’t mind seeing, even if they had been interrupted. He scooped up a plate and made his way down the table picking up food as he went, keenly aware that Steve was watching him. “So where’s the rest of the team?” he asked, dumping a pile of sushi onto his plate.

“They’re doing their own thing,” Steve said.

“I thought this was a team meeting?” Tony said, cocking an eyebrow.

“It’s more of an _update_ ,” Steve said. He picked up a plate and followed along beside Bucky, plating food only when he was sure everyone else had taken their fair share. He led them to the living room and sat down at the coffee table; it wasn’t the first time Tony had seen Steve eat here, but it was a shock all the same to see the guy make himself at home.

Tony sat down on the couch across from Steve with Bucky at his side. He eyed Steve as the super soldier shoveled food into his mouth and wondered if their impromptu meeting was going to be about something personal. Why else had no one else in the team been invited?

Steve rested his empty plate on his lap. “Alright. So I guess I should start by saying that a lot of rumors have been circling around in SHIELD and the media.”

“Rumors?” Tony paused, fork halfway to his mouth. “Is Fox starting shit again? Because Rhodey and Pepper swore they were going to deal with them.”

“It’s not Fox this time,” Steve said.

“So what’s the rumor?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of food.

“There have been sightings of Alexander Pierce,” Steve said.

Bucky stopped chewing, his expression blank.

“Are they _real_ sightings?” Tony asked, balancing his plate on his knees. He had read the file Natasha had given him over and over again, and she had made it pretty clear that Pierce wasn’t going anywhere. It was impossible for Pierce to be out there wandering the world like a tourist, sightseeing, but he had to ask if only to make sure Bucky knew the truth.

“As far as we know, no they are not real sightings and the idea that he’s wandering around like the goddamned easter bunny is absurd,” Steve said. “Pierce is still in SHIELD custody – and before you ask, Rumlow is _also_ still in custody and is being housed in a completely _different_ facility so there isn’t any chance of him breaking Pierce out.”

That news didn’t seem to please Bucky. He put his plate down on the coffee table and wiped his mouth with the back of hand before hunching over, his elbows resting on his knees. “You’re sure he’s not one of those robots – like Madame Hydra?”

Steve nodded stiffly. “Believe me, SHIELD has run every test in the book – he’s not a LMD and he’s not any other kind of weird whats-it we know about. He’s not magic – he’s not some kind of clone. He’s not going anywhere.”

“Good,” Tony said. “Do you think they’d mind if I poked around in their system?”

“You’re _already_ poking around in their system,” Steve said with a snort.

“True. But I like to at least _pretend_ like I’m being polite.” Tony grinned and popped a piece of sushi in his mouth. He hadn’t exactly been hiding his visits into SHIELD’s servers, but he was glad to know that Steve was keeping an eye on things. Still, the thought of Alexander Pierce wandering around – even a _fake_ Alexander Pierce – caught his attention and not in a good way. He pulled up a search window with Extremis, still chewing away and began building an algorithm to search for Fake Pierce, or whoever it was appearing in all of the pictures that had been released, using SHIELD’s many databases and every picture floating around on the internet as reference points, trying to triangulate possible locations for each sighting. It was easy for some of the pictures – they were clear photoshops; for others, it was trickier, and he was forced to leave Jarvis to finish things up while he ate. He was going to have to keep an eye on things.

“Look – I didn’t want to alarm anyone,” Steve said, his worried gaze locked on Bucky. “It’s really not a problem – I just wanted to make sure you were _both_ kept in the loop.”

Bucky shrugged and continued to stare off into the distance, brows furrowed.

Tony reached out tentatively, touching Bucky’s hand. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” Bucky said, looking down at Tony’s hand. “I’m just – I don’t like thinking about him.”

Tony put his plate down on the coffee table. He shifted closer, until his leg was pressed up against Bucky’s. He didn’t like that Pierce was suddenly in the forefront of his mind either. He didn’t like that Bucky was being reminded of the monster – he didn’t like that Bucky was probably now worried that Pierce might get out somehow. Pierce had a lot of pull in Hydra – in SHIELD, even – and it was frightening to know that Pierce had once had control of Bucky – full and total control.

“He won’t get out,” Steve said. “Natasha and I are keeping an eye on him at all times, and so is Jarvis. He’s not going to cause any more trouble than he already has.”

“Good,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. He slid backwards until his back was pressed up against the couch and pulled his feet up onto the cushion beneath him, wrapping his arms around his knees; he kept Tony’s hand in his, and ran his fingers absentmindedly over Tony’s. “He’s locked up where he belongs. He’s not going to get out.”

“Bucky?” Tony murmured.

Bucky shrugged again.

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry – maybe I should have let you eat before we talked.”

“It’s fine,” Bucky said. “Wasn’t hungry anyways.”

Tony scowled, but didn’t say anything. It was pretty damn clear that Bucky had been _ravenous_ before Steve had started talking. He wondered if he could get away with feeding Bucky like he had when Bucky was a cat. Seeing Bucky’s plate sitting there, loaded up with food, filled him with dread. He slid back against the couch and slipped his hand free from Bucky’s so he could wrap his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and pull him closer.

Bucky leaned against Tony and sighed, closing his eyes. “Sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, sweetheart,” Tony said, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s cheek. “I’ll keep you safe – and you’ll keep me safe.”

Steve coughed and looked away, his cheeks faintly pink.

Tony slipped his free hand into Bucky’s, stroking Bucky’s fingers. “He’s not getting out.”

“It’ll be fine,” Bucky said. “I know – it’ll be fine.”

“Pierce has been locked up for over a year now,” Steve said. “He’s not going anywhere.”

Tony stiffened. He hadn’t realized just how fast the year had passed by. He peeked at Extremis’ internal clock, knowing exactly what he would find. There were two weeks left until the anniversary of his parent’s death. He grimaced. He would have given anything to forget what had happened – or to at least be able to forget what damn day it had happened on – but there was no ignoring it. The media would be in full frenzy and he was going to have to make another speech; the board would demand it. He glanced over at Bucky and kissed his cheek again, not wanting to let anything slip. The last thing he wanted was to wave a big sign in Bucky’s face after what the Winter Soldier had been forced to do to Howard and Maria Stark.

Bucky took in a sharp breath and swallowed hard. “It’s been a fast year,” he said, sounding lost.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “It really has.” He smiled softly. “It’s a lot better now that you’re here, Bucky.”

Tony squeezed Bucky’s hand. “He’s right – you’ve certainly made _my_ year.”

Bucky smiled shakily. “You’ve made my year too.” He sighed and snuggled closer to Tony, practically crawling into his lap. “Wish you’d been here years ago.”

“Me too,” Tony said, stroking his hand down Bucky’s back.

“I’m going to go talk with Natasha,” Steve said quickly, standing up. He cleared his throat again and picked up his plate, holding it as if he didn’t quite know what to do with it. “It’ll be fine. We’re keeping an eye on everything. You two should focus on better things – I’ll keep you updated, alright?”

“Sure, Steve,” Tony said. “I’ll keep an eye on things too. I’m not going to get caught with my proverbial pants down again.”

Steve went bright red and scurried into the kitchen. “Right – right. No pants down,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’m going to go talk to Natasha.” He dashed to the elevator, moving so fast Tony was surprised he didn’t go clean through the closed elevator doors.

Bucky watched Steve go, frowning.

“Something wrong?” Tony asked as Steve lunged into the elevator.

“I don’t think so,” Bucky said, humming softly. “Just _thinking_ – that’s all.”

“Making plans?” Tony teased, kissing Bucky’s cheek again. Kissing Bucky – even if it was only a peck on the cheek – made him happy no matter how many times he did it.

“ _Maybe_ ,” Bucky said, squeezing Tony’s hand.

The elevator doors shut.

“We’ve got the place to ourselves,” Tony said, waggling his eyebrows as suggestively as possible. “What do you want to do?”

“Can we watch something mindless?” Bucky asked, softly.

“Sure,” Tony said, reaching for the remote. “Anything you want.”

Bucky sighed and rested his head on Tony’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you spot anything and I'll fix it! : ) Thanks for reading and commenting! I know I haven't responded to all the comments yet - I'll try and get that done tomorrow night!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony didn't like thinking about his parent's death - or Jarvis'. Avoiding things seemed like the best option - until it wasn't an option anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mentions of child abuse/violence.

Tony scowled at the blinking holographic calendar floating in front of him. It was three days before the anniversary of his parent’s death, and this year, he was even more determined than ever to escape the press, although this time it wasn’t just to keep them from going after him like territorial squirrels. The Avengers knew what was going to happen. The circus-slash-media-outlets in New York kept vigils outside the tower most days even when nothing was happening, and the yearly anniversary of Howard Stark’s death had been documented so many times it was now easily accessible with a few lazy searches on the internet.

The Avengers knew how to deal with the press. Every member of the team had gone through their own harassment campaigns at one time or another, yet Tony still worried because there was one person the vultures hadn’t gotten their claws into yet. No one had published pictures of Bucky yet – and they didn’t seem to have any information about him aside from the fact that someone who ‘looked suspiciously like the man who had attacked Captain America on an overpass’ had been seen around Stark Tower. It was nice.

Keeping things nice presented a whole range of problems. Firstly, having Bucky leave the Tower daily meant that one of the paparazzi dipwads would probably snap a picture of him. Pictures were easily dealt with; Jarvis could monitor electronic devices around the Tower and he could delete anything the scumbags had taken with ease. The real issue wasn’t that _something_ might leak – it was _what_ would leak. Sooner or later, someone might say something about the anniversary, and he wanted more than anything to make sure that didn’t happen. Bucky didn’t need to be accosted in the street – he didn’t need to fall into the cesspool of Howard Stark. It wouldn’t be fair to him. At least the press didn’t know what had really happened that day. They knew the story SHIELD had fed them – not the truth. To the press, Howard and Maria Stark’s death was simply an accident.

Tony sighed. He wondered if there was a way to explain everything without making Bucky feel guilty as hell. There was an awful lot of information about the Winter Soldier on the Tower’s system, and he had been keeping tabs on it; as far as he knew, Bucky had yet to dive into the Winter Soldier’s exploits. It likely that he didn’t know what he had done to the Starks and Edwin Jarvis.

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

“What?” Tony grumbled scrubbing his hand over his face to try and wake himself up. He could feel a headache trying to boom its way into existence, and while Extremis made that physically impossible, it _was_ possible to feel one because of stress. He had even looked it up just to be sure nothing was really wrong.

“Might I remind you that your date with Mr. Barnes is in an hour and a half?” Jarvis said.

Tony grimaced. The _date_ – right. He sighed again and hung his head. He wanted to be excited about going out for something to eat – about going on his first real date with Bucky – but it was hard to feel enthusiastic about leaving the Tower with everything going on in the press. He had mostly recovered from the kidnapping – or at least, he had gotten good enough at masking the terror that it wouldn’t be much of a problem unless he got cornered in a small space.

Bucky had recovered far faster than expected – or he was better at faking it than anyone suspected. He had told Tony that he worked better with a goal in mind the first time he had gone out jogging with Steve, and apparently that was working for him. The jerk had been going on runs with Steve ever since he had delivered his rumor report and while the two didn’t go out for long periods of time or without an escort (their max time outdoors most days was a whopping fifteen minutes) they seemed to be getting along. They were _friendly_ , even – bordering on touchy-feely. It was nice to see. A small part of Tony was oddly aroused by the sight of the two of them together. They looked like they were one step away from tearing each other’s clothing off some days. Seeing them both step out of the elevator smiling – or, occasionally, _sweaty_ and laughing – made him wonder if he should have a talk with Bucky about them dating _Steve_ together. Even Pepper thought it might be a possibility. She hadn’t pushed, but she had suggested they have a good talk at some point.

“Sir?” Jarvis said, sounding one step away from irritated.

“I know, I know,” Tony muttered. “I have to shower and get dressed before I lose track of time and end up running for the door smelling like I’ve spent the last few years living in a sweaty pit filled with oil and garbage.” He pushed himself upright and staggered over to the elevator as the feeling came back to his legs in one, horrible wave of prickles. Sometimes Extremis was _cruel_.

He stepped out of the elevator and made his way to his and Bucky’s bedroom, humming to himself. Bucky’s clean clothing was set out on their actually-made-for-once bed; Bucky must have made it before going out on his run, because Tony sure has hell hadn’t done it.

Tony paused and ran his fingers over the tie Bucky had picked out for the evening. This was cheating, of course. He probably wasn’t supposed to see what Bucky was going to wear, but he didn’t really care. The tie was Iron Man red, and it was one Bucky had stolen from Tony’s wardrobe. He smiled softly and vowed to pick a silver tie for the night.

“Sir,” Jarvis said, his words cutting through the comfortable silence.

Tony’s head snapped up. “Yeah?”

“Captain Rogers is requesting you come to Stark Mansion immediately,” Jarvis said.

Tony gritted his teeth. “What’s going on?”

“Captain Rogers and Mr. Barnes went on a different route today,” Jarvis said.

“Ok,” Tony said, carding his fingers through his hair. “Did someone take pictures? Say something to him? What happened?” He looked around, frantic to find a jacket and scooped up the first sweatshirt he could find, pulling it on before running for the elevator. “Do I need to suit up?”

“I don’t believe suiting up is necessary,” Jarvis said. “But Ms. Romanoff is waiting for you in the parking lot. She will drive you to the mansion.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “They’re at the mansion? And she thinks I need a ride? It’s not that far from here.”

“She has informed me that you are to be under no circumstance allowed to walk around in public with the anniversary so close. There is a swarm of paparazzi outside the building waiting to catch sight of you, and she believes that if they see you, your current appearance may lead them to believe that you are taking the deaths of your parents harder this year than ever before.”

Tony scowled and banged his hand against the elevator wall as the doors closed. “Fucking Howard – I swear to god, he ruins things from beyond the grave.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as the elevator shot down to the parking lot. Great. Now his headache was never going to go away.

 

 

Natasha waved at Tony from the nondescript black sedan she had forced him to buy after the Avengers had first formed. “Move your ass, Stark,” she called out through the window. “We don’t have all day.”

Tony jogged over to the car and yanked open the passenger side door, heaving himself inside; he pulled on his seatbelt as Natasha started the car and maneuvered them towards the security gate. “What’s going on, Natasha?” he asked, keenly aware that she had already engaged the privacy programming in the windshield. No one would be able to look in and truly see who was at the wheel – all they would see was a balding man with his middle aged wife in the passenger seat.

“Barnes had a breakdown,” Natasha said. Her eyes were on the road, and if Tony hadn’t been looking at her directly, he might have missed the way her tone didn’t match the pinched look on her face.

Tony’s chest felt like someone had sat on it. “Is he alright?” he asked.

“He’s nonresponsive,” Natasha said, turning the sedan down a side street. “Steve’s with him right now. They’re in the garden of the mansion, out of sight.”

Tony gripped the door’s handhold tightly. “What happened?”

“They were running,” Natasha said. “He and Steve made it around the block and went down towards the mansion. Steve thought Bucky was right behind him – they were going to pick up a jug of chocolate milk from some store nearby– and when Steve checked behind him, Bucky was gone.”

“He left?” Tony asked.

“I don’t know if he left on his own or he was chased,” Natasha admitted. “Steve called me right after it happened and asked me to check the tracking chips we put in him. Hawkeye didn’t see anything happen. He was busy trying not to get shit on by a bunch of pigeons and missed it all.”

Tony winced. He didn’t like that they had had to use the trackers to find Bucky, but he knew it had been for the best. Still, the invasion of privacy made his insides squirm unpleasantly.

“Barnes took a direct route to Stark Mansion,” Natasha continued, “I told Steve where to find him. I don’t know if he saw someone on the way there. Thor went with him, but he has since been distracted by a bunch of girl scouts selling cookies.”

“Fucking cookies,” Tony said. “Too alluring for their own good.”

“Agreed,” Natasha said with a smile. “He’s promised to bring back a few boxes as an apology.” She pulled the sedan around the block and found a place to park a block and a half away from the mansion. She held her hand out when he moved to open the door. “Let me take the lead.”

Tony sighed. He knew better than to rush anywhere these days, not with Hydra and the paparazzi possibly lurking in the streets, but he would have preferred to be able to get out without being escorted around.

Natasha got out and looked around, her gaze keen. When she was satisfied, she walked around to Tony’s side of the car and opened the door for him. “Route’s clear,” she said, simply.

Tony pulled his hood up and stepped out of the car. “I don’t have my keys,” he said, patting his pockets. He swore under his breath. Stark Mansion, unlike the rest of his properties, had a manual lock on most of the doors. Aside from the security cameras, there wasn’t much inside that was high tech; he had left it just as it had been the day his parents and Jarvis had died.

“Don’t worry about it. The outer gates unlocked,” Natasha said. “Steve’s handy that way.”

“Sure,” Tony muttered, heading down the sidewalk that led to the Mansion’s servant’s entrance. The route would have been straightforward, but the moment he made to go towards the Mansion’s cement outer walls, Natasha grabbed him by the arm ever-so-gently and led him around the corner.

“How the hell are we supposed to get in there if you’re not interested in taking the back way in?” Tony hissed, letting himself be led. “I didn’t bring my suit and I’m _pretty_ sure you can’t fly.”

“Steve hopped the fence,” Natasha said. “The garden gate is open.”

“Oh,” Tony said, feeling foolish. He had forgotten all about the garden gates. The garden has been his mother’s domain, and while he had spent quite a lot of time with her compared to his father, he hadn’t done a lot of exploring in her garden since he had been unceremoniously shipped off to boarding school. He wasn’t sure why he had thought Bucky had gone through the mansion itself, but now it seemed obvious that that hadn’t happened. The garden was the easiest route into the Mansion – and, now that he thought about it, it was the one route Howard hadn’t really bothered to secure. That thought alone made him want to go to his father’s grave so he could piss on it. The bastard hadn’t cared about his wife’s safety at all, had he? There should have been special locks – something at the very least that would slow a would-be attacker down – but there hadn’t been anything there in the garden aside from a few cameras and on occasion, the house security guard.

Natasha escorted Tony further along the cement walls that encircled Stark Mansion and its adjoining garden. The wrought iron door, thankfully not rusted out with age due to the Mansion’s caretaker’s diligence, opened smoothly to reveal a frantic looking Steve with a phone pressed against his ear. He ushered them inside and then closed the door.

“Tony and Natasha are here now, Sam,” Steve said. “What else should I do?” He sighed and turned away from Tony, as though that would somehow give him privacy in the cramped area beside the gate. “He’s just sitting there in the grass. He hasn’t moved an inch since I got here – somethings wrong. I can just tell.”

Tony shifted uneasily in place, unsure if he should trust his instincts and sprint for Bucky or not. It felt like he should wait for whatever it was Sam was telling Steve over the phone. He looked over at Natasha, feeling helpless.

Natasha put her hand on Tony’s shoulder and pulled him over to the stone wall, far enough away from Steve so that they could still see and hear him, but not get in his way. She kept her hand on his shoulder and locked eyes with him. She hadn’t looked at him like this in a long time and it scared him. “Tony,” she said. “I’m not going to tell you what to do because frankly I don’t know what we’re dealing with yet – I can guess, but there’s no way to know until he does something. I do not know if this means he’s reverted back to the Winter Soldier’s basic programming or whether he’s dealing with something he saw or heard as himself.”

Tony swallowed hard. “You think that could happen? You think he could turn back into the Winter Soldier?”

“I don’t know, Tony,” Natasha said. “If you choose to go up to him right now, I need you to be aware that he might be a danger.”

Tony didn’t want to believe that Bucky could hurt him, but if the Winter Soldier was in charge, there might not be a way to avoid an attack. If Bucky felt threatened – if the _Winter Soldier_ felt threatened –he might lash out; Natasha was right. There was no way to know what Bucky would do until he did it.

“I’m hoping,” Natasha said, her gaze stern, “That this doesn’t come to me having to take him down.”

Take him down? Tony stilled. Did that mean what he thought it meant? Did that mean _killing_ Bucky? She couldn’t be serious.

“I know you’re not going to let him get hurt,” Natasha said. “Relax. I’m not going to go for a killing blow – I’m going to aim for disabling him first, but if he goes out of control I need you to understand that what I do isn’t personal.”

“Like hell it _isn’t_ ,” Tony snapped, tensing. Natasha hadn’t exactly been coddling Bucky. She had been watching him so carefully, it was a surprise she hadn’t spent her nights sitting on a chair in their bedroom making sure nothing fishy was going on in the dark.

“Tony. It’s _not_ personal,” Natasha said, squeezing Tony’s shoulder gently. “This isn’t about hurting Bucky. I don’t _want_ to hurt him. I know you love him and I respect that. This is about containing the Winter Soldier if he reappears – this has _always_ been about the Winter Soldier. I know the packaging is different, but inside of Bucky Barnes is the man he used to be and there’s nothing in the world short of going back in time or wiping his mind that’s going to change that.”

Tony sneered. “He’s not a mindless killer anymore,” he said.

“I hope you’re right,” Natasha said. “But if you’re not, I’m here to keep you and Steve safe.”

“Safe?” Tony said, his voice shrill. “What do you mean _safe_ – why wouldn’t we be safe?”

“You and Steve – you’re too close to him,” Natasha said. “You weren’t there when he fought Bucky on the overpass, Tony – or when Steve brought Bucky in as a cat. Steve doesn’t exactly think about things _tactically_ when it comes to Bucky in distress and neither do you.”

Tony scowled. “Why didn’t you say something earlier if you were so worried about us not being able to do our jobs?”

Natasha smiled tiredly. “You know I don’t spill secrets unless I have a damn good reason.”

“I know,” Tony said. He gnawed on his lower lip and peered over Natasha’s shoulder into the garden. He couldn’t quite see Bucky through the overgrown flowering butterfly bushes, but he could tell that _someone_ had been through here; the branches and leaves were broken and the flowers were bent. The ground was littered with smeared footprints.

Natasha glanced over her shoulder at Steve and then back at Tony. “I’ll be right behind you,” she said. “We’ll do this together.”

“What about Steve?” Tony asked. “You want to do this without him?”

“He’s got Sam on the line,” Natasha said. “Sam will talk him down.”

“Alright,” Tony said, shaking his head. “Steve’s not going to be happy about his.”

“When is he ever happy about someone doing something that isn’t in his plans?” Natasha said wryly.

Tony snorted. “Fair enough.”

“Go,” Natasha murmured, letting her hands drop from his shoulders. “I’ve got your back.”

Tony moved quickly, not wanting to lose his nerve. Steve still had his back to them, and he didn’t want to draw his attention. He pushed his way through the bent and broken foliage and hurried over to a nearby broken-down bench. Bucky wasn’t sitting on the remains of the bench and thank fuck for that; it probably would have given him tetanus even with the super soldier serum in his veins. Bucky was kneeling in front of it in the muddy grass, his eyes glazed over as he stared down at the ground in front of him.

“Bucky?” Tony called out.

Bucky didn’t stir.

“Bucky? _Sweetheart_?” Tony moved closer. “Bucky?”

Bucky remained still.

Tony took another cautious step forwards. “Bucky?”

“Why are you so nice to me?” Bucky asked.

Tony stepped closer again, until he was beside Bucky’s shoulder, putting himself in between Bucky and Natasha who he couldn’t see but knew was lurking in the shadows. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“I killed them,” Bucky said, his voice devoid of emotion. “I killed them – I killed Howard. I killed his wife. I killed his driver. You loved them and I killed them.”

Tony stiffened.

“I liked it,” Bucky said.

Tony remained silent, unable to speak as though his words were chained to his tongue.

“I mean – I didn’t like killing his wife or the driver,” Bucky said, reaching up to tug at his hair. “I don’t know. They used to send me out on missions to see what Howard was up to. Most of the time he didn’t do anything out of the ordinary – he just drank himself into a stupor after one of his fucking projects went wrong. I just – sometimes he was a real fucker – you know?”

“I know,” Tony said.

“I watched him with you,” Bucky said, tugging at his hair again with his flesh-and-blood hand. “He was worse when he was with you. Before you were born he used to just ignore his wife and fuck around – used to bring any dame home he found willing. He used to fuck them in his and his wife’s bed.” He yanked hard, pulling out a handful of hair. “They made me take pictures.”

Tony moved forward, grabbing Bucky’s hand. “Don’t.”

“Why?” Bucky said, his voice breaking. “I did it. I deserve to suffer.”

“You don’t need to suffer,” Tony said, his grip on Bucky’s hand firm.

Tears trickled down Bucky’s face. He covered his eyes with his cybernetic hand and sobbed, his body shaking, his hand still in Tony’s. “You know what the worst part was?”

Tony pulled Bucky’s hand against his chest and moved closer, until his knees were pressed up against Bucky’s side.

“They made me watch him hit you,” Bucky mumbled, his words slurred as he sobbed. “They didn’t give a shit that he was beating you – that he spent time smacking his wife around – that he was shit-faced and screaming at his goddamned house staff. They had me watch it all and they _laughed_. They thought it was fucking _funny_. I think they thought they could blackmail him with the pictures they made me take.”

Tony’s lower lip trembled. Bucky had seen it? All of it? He hadn’t realized that anyone other than Jarvis and the other servants had known about what had gone on in the Stark Mansion behind closed doors. _Fuck_. It had been bad enough to go through it as a child – but to know that Hydra had forced Bucky to stand by and watch helplessly made him feel like throwing up.

“Howard didn’t care,” Bucky continued. “When they finally had the pictures delivered to his office, you know what he did?” He laughed bitterly. “Howard Stark had no shame.” He shook his head, swaying where he knelt. “He told the Hydra agent who went to talk to him that no one would believe the pictures. That it was his house – his wife – his son – and his decision on how to _discipline_ them.”

Tony wiped at his eyes with his free hand. That was exactly what Howard had always told Jarvis. Every time someone had ended up threatening to phone the police, Howard would spew that same bullshit line and it had worked. The police had been in his pocket. Everyone else had been too afraid to lose money to speak up. They hadn’t said two words about what Howard Stark had done outside of his work.

“When they sent me to kill him,” Bucky said, sniffling. “I made it look like a car accident.” He wiped at his eyes with his cybernetic hand and then let it drop with a click as it hit a stone embedded in the muddy grass. “They had me cut the fuel and break line. The car ran into a wall and when I saw that he wasn’t dead, they had me rip out the windshield and strangle him with my bare hands.” He laughed again, the sound bordering on hysterical. “I _liked_ killing him. I liked seeing his fucking eyes bulge in his head – I did. I didn’t want to, but I did. And I didn’t stop, because he used to hurt you and I was glad you wouldn’t have to see him again. They were going to let you live and I did it – I did it because it was better to see him dead then to see you covered in bruises again.”

Tony lowered himself to the ground slowly. “I know what you did,” he said. “This isn’t something I didn’t know about.”

“You knew?” Bucky said, looking up. He looked so lost, so afraid, that Tony couldn’t help but hug him tightly.

“I have the file about the Winter Soldier – it’s on the Tower’s servers,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “I’ve known for a long time now. I just – I didn’t know if I should bring it up, or if I should wait and see.”

Bucky let out a choked sob and dug his fingers into Tony’s shirt. “I killed them,” he wailed. “I killed them and you were _nice_ to me. You decided to let me stay with you – you let me into your house – into your bed. Why would you do that?”

“Darling,” Tony said, keeping Bucky close, “It was the Winter Soldier who did all of that. It wasn’t you.”

“But it was _me_ ,” Bucky howled.

“And you didn’t have a _choice_ ,” Tony said, rubbing slow circles on Bucky’s back. “Sweetheart, they _made_ you do it. Those sick Hydra fucks made you do it. They’re the ones to blame here. They made you watch – they made you do _everything_ they wanted. You didn’t have a choice. You didn’t have control until their programming wore off, so how could I ever – _ever_ – blame you for what happened?” He pressed another kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “I _love_ you.”

Bucky leaned closer, sobbing harder. “You shouldn’t.”

“But I do. And I know that it feels like you don’t deserve to be forgiven but you are – I’m forgiving you. Right now you are forgiven for killing them,” Tony said. He carded his fingers through Bucky’s hair, smoothing it down as he checked the damage. There was a patch of hair the size of a quarter missing, but thankfully it wasn’t a big patch and Bucky wasn’t bleeding. It would heal. “And you know what?” Tony said after a minute of contemplation, still stroking Bucky’s hair, “A lot of people would have enjoyed killing Howard Stark. And some of those people? Those people were in the car with him when he died.”

Bucky sniffled.

“Did I ever tell you about the time Jarvis punched Howard in the face?” Tony asked. He smiled, teary-eyed. That was a good memory. Jarvis had had a strong right hook, and Howard had seemingly known exactly how hard and which buttons to push to get him swinging; the butler might have been mild mannered and gentle most of the time, but he and his wife Anna had both been ready to beat the shit out of someone if necessary. It hadn’t been the first time Howard had been punched, and it hadn’t been the last either.

Bucky leaned against Tony, clinging to him.

“Howard got really drunk,” Tony said, settling on his aching knees. “And he decided that it would be _hilarious_ to invite this group of strippers to the mansion to celebrate his latest achievement. It was some kind of newfangled _blender_ – he never did hand it off to the R &D team though so I have no idea if it was any good or just a random piece of shit like all the other things in his workshop.”

Bucky let out a startled laugh between sniffles.

“Howard had his ladies in every goddamned room of the mansion,” Tony said. “And when Jarvis saw them, he phoned my Aunt Peggy to see if she could talk some sense into him.” He shook his head. “Howard wouldn’t listen to his own wife, but he’d listen to Aunt Peggy.”

“Peggy? Peggy Carter?” Bucky asked, timidly.

“That’s right,” Tony said.

“She lived? After the war?” Bucky asked. “Steve’s girl _lived_?”

“Yeah,” Tony said, smiling fondly. “She lived.”

“She was here?” Bucky asked. “In New York?”

“She was indeed,” Tony said. “Aunt Peggy move up here for work – or so she claimed. I knew she worked for SHIELD but she wasn’t big on talking about it. I never did find out what she did as Director of SHIELD – not until she was already...” Tony sighed. “Not until she’d died.”

“What did she do when she saw all the dames?” Bucky asked, in a near whisper.

“She told Howard that if he didn’t escort his ladies out of the building, she would talk to them and would convince them all to take off their shoes and beat him with them until he learned his lesson,” Tony said.

Bucky buried his nose in Tony’s throat. “Did she do it?”

“You bet your sweet ass she did,” Tony said. “She hit him with one of her heels. The girls were too afraid to smack him but they cheered her on. He had a bruise on the side of his head for at least a week and a half. He told people it was from an accident in the lab when anyone asked.”

Bucky sighed.

“And then you know what Aunt Peggy did next?” Tony said, still rubbing circles on Bucky’s back.

Bucky took in a sharp breath and let it out through his nose, trying to control the sobs that kept threatening to bubble free.

“She took me and my mom out for dinner at the nicest restaurant she could find open,” Tony said. “And she didn’t let Howard come with us. You should have seen the look on his face. Shit – I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel from glaring so hard.”

“He was angry at her?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know whether he was angry about her giving him shit or upset that he was being denied his right to go out to eat,” Tony said, “Whatever it was he felt, he sure threw a temper tantrum. I think he broke every plate in the house that night. Jarvis had to order new stuff in, and Anna was so mad at Howard, she didn’t speak to him for a month.” Tony shifted slightly, his knees sore. “Aunt Peggy tried to talk mom into leaving Howard – did you know that?”

“No,” Bucky said. “They never made me follow anyone when Agent Carter was around. I didn’t – I didn’t recognize her. I don’t remember anything else from around then. It’s all a blur and then it goes black.”

“It make sense that Hydra wouldn’t want you around when she was there. Aunt Peggy would have recognized you if she’d seen you,” Tony said. “She was _incredibly_ good with faces.”

“Was she?” Bucky said.

“She was the best of the best,” Tony said. He missed Aunt Peggy; she had been the one to make Maria smile, even when things were grim. Even Jarvis and Anna hadn’t been able to do that. “She taught me how to fight– did I ever tell you that?” he said, clearing his throat. His eyes watered as he tried to squash the grief building up inside him. It was silly that so many years later, it could still bother him that they were all gone. Peggy had only died four years ago, but it still felt like she had been there every day since, always just out of reach.

“No,” Bucky mumbled into Tony’s throat. “You didn’t say anything about her.”

“I should have,” Tony said. “She, Jarvis and Anna set up this training regimen for me whenever I came back from boarding school.” He chuckled and tried to force his tears away. Those had been the days; having Peggy, Anna and Jarvis’ constant attention had made up for the fact that he had been sent away from home to become a man – to become _iron_ – to stop being weak and pathetic. Those had been Howard’s words, of course; it had taken him years to realize that it hadn’t been what everyone in the world would think of him. It had hurt to hear those words – hurt to have them thrown in his face over and over again until they had felt more familiar than anything else his father had ever said to him. “He was a shit father – but they were alright. They made a lot of it better.”

“You shouldn’t forgive me,” Bucky said, softly, trying to pull away.

Tony frowned and held on tighter. “I can make up my own mind, thank you very much,” he said. “I can forgive you if I want to.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you _should_ ,” Bucky said, turning his face away from Tony, twisting in his grasp.

“Bucky – _sweetheart_ – I’m serious here. I don’t blame you for what happened,” Tony said. He squawked as he lost his balance and went ass over teakettle onto the muddy grass. Staring up at the sky, he wondered if there was a way to look dignified while covered in mud and bits of grass.

Bucky leaned over Tony, concern written on every inch of his face. His eyes were wide and watery. “Are you – are you alright?”

“I can’t feel my ass,” Tony lamented.

Bucky let out an ungodly snort and reached out, grasping Tony’s hand. He pulled Tony up and tried feebly to wipe the mud off of him; all he succeeded in doing was making it worse. “Tony?”

“Yes?” Tony said.

“Why didn’t you tell me the anniversary of their murder was coming up?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know,” Tony said, wiping his hands on the only mud-free patch of grass beside him. “I guess I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“And you planned to go on our first date _right_ before it happened?” Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know what that _means_.”

“It means I wanted something better to think about,” Tony said. “I know – I know. It was shitty to not say something, but I didn’t want to force you to think about it if you didn’t already know.”

Bucky scowled. “Tony.”

“I know – again – I know, it was a stupid, shitty decision,” Tony said. “I should have said something. It’s my fault.”

“It’s – it’s not your _fault_ ,” Bucky said. “For fuck’s sake, Tony – they were your _parents_ and I _killed_ them. You have every right to not want to talk about it.” His shoulders slumped as he thought about what he had just said, his expression turning baleful. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped this all on you.”

“You didn’t dump _anything_ on me,” Tony said. He took Bucky’s flesh-and-blood hand in his and gave it a kiss. “I love you. If you need to talk about them – about something else you remember – about pot roast, or cats or – or – I don’t know, _anything_ , I’ll be there. I mean it. If you need to talk about it I _want_ to be there. I want to help if I can, and if all I can do to help is listen then I will gladly do that.”

Bucky smiled crookedly and wiped at his face with his cybernetic hand; he smeared mud across his cheek and sighed in despair. “I hate mud. Have I ever – have I ever told you that?”

“No, you haven’t,” Tony said. “For the record, I’m not a fan of mud either.”

“I should have talked to you,” Bucky said.

“You were getting flashbacks, weren’t you?” Tony said. “Every time you went out on a run.”

Bucky nodded stiffly.

“Did you talk with Steve about it?” Tony asked.

Bucky looked up sharply.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Tony said, dryly.

“He would have kept me inside,” Bucky said. “I didn’t want to ruin our date.” His eyes went almost comically wide. “Oh god – I did it anyways, didn’t I? I ruined it and it hasn’t even happened.”

“You did _not_ ruin our date,” Tony said, quickly. “We are _rescheduling_ our date.”

“We are?” Bucky said.

“We are,” Tony said. “Rescheduling a date doesn’t count as things ending badly or going wrong.”

“It doesn’t?” Bucky said.

“It doesn’t,” Tony said, firmly. “It just means I have to phone Pepper and explain what happened.”

Bucky winced.

“Relax,” Natasha said, appearing from behind them as though she was made from the shadows. Tony’s heart hammered in his chest at the sight of her. He had known she was there, but he hadn’t expected her to say anything – at least, not yet.

“I’ve already called Pepper,” Natasha said.

“Really?” Tony said. That was good news.

“She knows where we went,” Natasha said with a shrug. “When Barnes started talking to you, I figured it was a safe bet that he was alright so I gave her a call.”

“I see,” Tony said. He leaned to the left and looked past Natasha to see if he could spot Steve, but the super soldier was nowhere to be seen. “Is Steve alright?”

“He’s still talking with Sam,” Natasha said. “He’s arranging for him to come here and visit.”

“I bet it wasn’t a tough sell. Sam wants his wings worked on, doesn’t he?” Tony said.

Natasha quirked a smile. “I think that’s _one_ of his reasons for dropping everything to come visit, yes.”

“I’ll have Jarvis send the jet for him. He’s still in the same place, right?” Tony said. He tried to stand up and promptly ended up flat on his ass in the mud again.

Bucky helped Tony up. “Careful,” he murmured.

Tony sighed in despair. “Kiss me and make it better?”

Bucky cupped Tony’s face in his hands, his thumb stroking Tony’s cheekbone, following the sharp line of his beard. “I love you,” he said. “I know we haven’t really – you know – gone on a date or done something really like we’re supposed to, but I do. I love you. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop myself from killing your parents. I know I can’t take that back, but I’ll do my best to make it up to you.”

Tony beamed. “I love you too. And don’t worry about it – you don’t have to make up for anything.”

Bucky smiled and leaned in and kissed him.

Natasha sighed wearily. “You two are _disgustingly_ cute sometimes.”

Tony heard the sound of a phone camera clicking and grinned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders. “You’d better send me that picture,” he mumbled as he kissed Bucky again.

“Fine,” Natasha said. “Any other requests?”

“Take us home?” Bucky asked.

“Alright,” Natasha said. “I suppose I could do that.” She hummed softly. “Should we bring Steve back too? Or should we leave him here so he and Sam can keep talking?”

“Let’s bring him home too,” Tony said. He was relieved that things had gone so well. When Natasha had been explaining things in the car, he had been afraid that he wouldn’t be able to help Bucky at all. This, he thought with a smile, was the best possible outcome. Things weren’t perfect, and he knew that Bucky would probably continue to blame himself for Maria, Jarvis and Howard’s deaths, but at least now they had talked about it. They had cleared the air – and Bucky knew that he loved him. It would be alright. They would work things out together.

 

 

Natasha drove them back to the tower with Steve in the passenger seat and Tony and Bucky in the back seat, huddled together. The trip was quiet, even though Steve still had his phone pressed up against his ear. His mumbled responses to whatever it was Sam was saying were so soft, Tony could barely hear them although judging by the glances he caught in the rear-view mirror, Steve was handling things better now that Bucky was mobile. He wondered idly if Sam could hear Steve’s responses; maybe Sam was simply talking for the sake of letting Steve hear something positive. Rhodey did that sometimes. Damn. He really needed to introduce the two some time soon.

Bucky hadn’t said a word since they had kissed in the garden, but he had smiled and taken Tony’s hand as they walked back to the car with Natasha leading the way so Tony wasn’t worried – or at least, he wasn’t any more worried than he already was.

When they made it back to the penthouse, they found dinner waiting for them with an anxious looking Pepper in attendance. She had called in for pizza and had ordered damn near everything on the menu. Tony wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not; she liked leftover pizza in the mornings, after all, and while there were two super soldiers to feed, he wouldn’t have put it past her to want to make sure there were a few extra pizzas for herself.

That night, Tony went to bed full and contentedly curled up with Bucky spooning him from behind.

 

Tony woke up alone.

He stretched out amidst his blankets, and patted the mattress sleepily, trying to ascertain whether Bucky’s departure was temporary or long-lasting. Sadly, the mattress was cold to the touch. One quick look over his shoulder made it clear that Bucky wasn’t just in the bathroom. It was fine. Bucky was probably out with Steve. Bucky being missing from his side of the bed wasn’t, strictly speaking, out of the ordinary. Yet, for some reason, the seemingly normal departure made Tony feel uneasy.

“Jarvis?” Tony said, sitting up.

“Yes, sir?” Jarvis said.

“Where’s Bucky?” Tony asked. “Is he out with Steve?”

“Mr. Barnes is not currently in the tower,” Jarvis said.

Tony frowned. “So he’s out but he’s not with Steve?” He heaved himself upright and stumbled around trying to find the clothing he had shed the night before. This didn’t feel right – something was wrong. Shit. He had thought things were fine the night before – he had been sure of it. “Jarvis? Where is he?”

“Sir – I don’t mean to alarm you, but his trackers are offline,” Jarvis said.

Tony froze, his sweatpants pulled halfway up his legs. “What?”

“Mr. Barnes left the building approximately fifty minutes ago,” Jarvis said. “He informed me that he was planning to meet Captain Rogers at the bakery around the corner so they could talk. I was receiving signal from his tracking chips up until a few seconds ago. I’m afraid I don’t know what happened.”

“Call Steve,” Tony said, yanking his pants up.

“Tony?” Steve sounded groggy. “Is something wrong?”

Tony gritted his teeth and pulled his shirt on over his head. “Did you make plans to meet Bucky for coffee today?”

“No,” Steve said, sounding suddenly very alert. “Is – did something happen?”

“His tracker is dead,” Tony said, running into the elevator. “His _trackers_ are dead – plural. They’re all out.” He let Extremis stream in front of his eyes and began searching the security cameras, desperate to find some sign of Bucky, but no matter how much he scrolled through the footage, there was no way of knowing where Bucky was aside from that Bucky had gone in a vaguely northward direction. The cameras he tapped into outside the tower were too low-res to be of much use and while he did manage to catch sight of Bucky disappearing into a store – one that was decidedly not the bakery – Tony didn’t see him come back out.

Tony jerked back when the elevator doors opened and Steve stepped in; he hadn’t even realized the elevator was moving.

Steve looked like he had been dressed by a hurricane. His clothing was all askew and he hadn’t quite managed to button up his pants or get his arm through one of the sleeves of his button-up shirt. His pristine white undershirt was glaring at Tony in the bright elevator lights. He locked eyes with Tony and jammed his finger into the ground floor button. “Why aren’t you wearing socks?” he asked.

“Who cares about _socks_? You’re not even wearing shoes,” Tony said. “And neither am I.”

“Screw shoes. Jarvis? Where is Natasha?” Steve asked as the elevator shot downward. “If she’s not already awake, get her down here. Now!”

“Ms. Romanoff is getting dressed and is making her way to the elevator,” Jarvis said. “She has informed me that up until a few minutes ago, she was actively monitoring Mr. Barnes’ location and saw nothing that made her believe something was wrong.”

“So he disappeared on his own?” Tony snapped, tugging at his fingers.

“I believe so,” Jarvis said. “I am deeply sorry, sir. If I had believed something like this was going to happen I would have woken you earlier.”

“It’s not your fault, Jarvis,” Tony muttered.

“Mr. Barnes woke up as usual, typed out an email and then got dressed and went to the elevator for his run. It did not look suspicious, and after you two conversed and went to bed the night before, I believed things to be fine,” Jarvis said. “Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Tony said, trying to flatten out the wrinkles in his shirt.

“He wrote an email?” Steve frowned. “Who did he write it to and what did he write?”

“I am not allowed to record or view private correspondences,” Jarvis said. “I’m sorry, Captain.”

Tony blinked slowly. Extremis chirped helpfully in his ear. An email had come in from Bucky. The bastard had left him a goddamned electronic note. At least that made things a little easier to understand.

“This is an emergency,” Steve insisted. “You have access to his accounts, don’t you?”

“Steve,” Tony said, softly.

“Not _now_ , Tony,” Steve said, his voice strained. “Jarvis – please. Tell us what the email said. Was it something bad? Was it something good?”

“ _Steve_ ,” Tony said, his voice strained. He felt like he was going to run out of air; he took in a deep breath and tried not to hyperventilate, praying that Extremis would have the sense to kick in if he actually did start choking on air.

Steve stilled. “Tony?”

Tony jammed his finger into elevator’s stop button so hard he was fairly certain he would end up with a bruise. His stomach churned as he read through Bucky’s email again.

“Tony?” Steve said. He put his hands on Tony’s shoulders. He sounded worried, like he was afraid Tony might not answer him. “Tony? Is something wrong?”

“You don’t need to ask Jarvis what the email said,” Tony said, feeling as if he might crash into the wall. “Bucky sent the email to _me_.” Fuck it, he thought. He didn’t want to stand anyway. He slumped against the wall behind him and looped an arm through the safety railing, using it to keep himself off the floor as he read through Bucky’s letter again.

“What’s wrong?” Steve said. There was a funny little wrinkle between his eyebrows. It would have been cute if Tony hadn’t been panicking.

“Bucky’s going after Pierce. He says he wants to make things up to me,” Tony mumbled. He let go of the railing as his energy gave out and slid painfully down to the floor, slipping free from Steve’s grasp. That was funny too. He had expected Steve to keep hold of him, but apparently news of Bucky leaving was too much for Steve to handle.

Steve dropped to his knees in front of Tony; he looked dazed. “What? What do you mean he’s going after Pierce? Pierce is locked up.”

“Jarvis,” Tony mumbled, “Pull up the SHIELD report Bucky saw this morning.”

A blue box filled with holographic text appeared floating beside Steve. Tony didn’t have to read it; he already knew what was in the report. Bucky had made it all pretty damn clear. Pierce and Rumlow were gone, and had been for who _knows_ how long, and there was nothing they could do to fix the damage their escape might soon cause. The fact that they had escaped wasn’t what really bothered him. What really burned his ass was that SHIELD hadn’t even found out until _now_ – and their fuck up had sent Bucky off to get revenge because he had been the first one to intercept the announcement.

This was bullshit. Plain and simple. Why hadn’t he and Steve been kept in the loop? Notifications like prisoner escapes were supposed to funnel through the Avengers before they made their way to anyone else and while Tony considered Bucky an Avenger, the team hadn’t formally made him one yet. Had Bucky intercepted the SHIELD message somehow? Or had someone made sure the information made it was way to him? Either way, they had been screwed over. Hydra now had their biggest head back. Hydra was united – and Bucky was out there, all on his own. Bucky was out there, and they had no way of picking him up or helping him out. Bucky had a head start on them. It wasn’t like they would be able to just walk around the corner and drag him home. There would be no finding him if he didn’t want to be found. He had managed to stay under the radar before he had been turned into a cat; he would easily be able to do that again.

Fuck.

That _hurt_.

Steve’s brow furrowed in concentration as he read the floating text. When he was done, he glared at the text box, as if somehow betrayed by it. “Rumlow and Pierce are out in the real world and we weren’t _alerted_?” he said.

“I guess we weren’t important enough to call directly,” Tony said. He clenched his fists. How the hell had this happened? They were the Avengers! This _shouldn’t_ have happened. SHIELD HQ wasn’t some kid’s club-house – they were supposed to be in control.

“I don’t understand,” Steve said, looking as baffled as Tony felt. “Pierce and Rumlow were replaced by some kind of _bio-organic LMD_ – a kind that _no one_ could detect, and they sent out a fucking _email_ about it instead of calling us directly?” Steve’s nostrils flared. “Connect me to Director Fury right now, Jarvis. He and I need to have a serious discussion while I’m not close enough to punch him in the face.”

“My apologies, Captain, but Director Fury’s line is unavailable,” Jarvis said.

“What do you mean he’s _unavailable_?” Steve said with a growl.

“His automated response to calls indicates that he is currently ‘cleaning up a fucking mess’ and that he will call you back. I will continue to contact him until he answers. However, I believe I can answer some of your questions in the meantime,” Jarvis said.

“Alright,” Steve said, looking marginally placated by the AI’s words. “So what the hell happened at SHIELD HQ?”

“I am unsure of the specifics, Captain, but I believe the information about the escape was delayed due to the death of the person who discovered the organic LMD’s. SHIELD has reported three bodies being sent to the infirmary in pieces, and the email notification about the LMD’s existence – written, it appears, in haste – has only now just reached Director Fury as the SHIELD agent in question’s possessions were being investigated and the email was discovered unsent on his SHIELD issue phone,” Jarvis said. “SHIELD has set themselves on high alert and is in lockdown until further notice. They are investigating the matter but have so far issued no outward response outside of an alert similar to the one Mr. Barnes gave you in his message.”

“Fury’s going to shit a brick,” Tony said. “Christ – how the hell did this happen?”

“Someone must have done a switch,” Steve said.

“But who?” Tony said. “I thought we chased Hydra out of SHIELD for good!”

“I’d say it was someone with visitation rights,” Steve said with a grimace. “We’re lucky – that’s a short list to go through.”

“I don’t know,” Tony said. He shook his head. “Hydra wouldn’t risk letting one of their high ranking goons get busted. A break-out is small-time stuff, even if this is Pierce and Rumlow we’re talking about. Fuck. It could have been _anyone_.”

“So who do you think it was?” Steve asked, exasperated.

“I bet it’s someone _we_ brought in. It had to have been that alien lady! She must have done _something_. We never did figure out the extent of her powers,” Tony said. “She was friends with Madame Hydra. They must have had some kind of plan to get in and out of SHIELD while everyone was out looking for us in Madripor. Goddamn _kidnappings_. Here I was thinking it was a straightforward thing – all they wanted was to get their weaponry up and running again. We gave them exactly what they wanted. We may as well have handed Pierce over to them on a silver platter.”

“Damn it!” Steve banged his fist on the floor, leaving behind a sizeable dent.

“Please don’t kill my elevator,” Tony said, absently, still staring at Bucky’s message with Extremis. He reread the text and then committed it to memory.

“Sorry,” Steve grumbled, rubbing at his hand. “I just – I expected more from SHIELD than this. We’re supposed to be working together! They’re supposed to be good at what they do.”

“At least someone over there figured out something was wrong before Pierce popped up again,” Tony said with a sigh. “Better to know now than _never_.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Steve said.

“Shit,” Tony groaned, putting his head in his hands. “All those stories about Pierce being out there might actually have had some truth to them.” He pulled up the search results he had been looping through since they had heard the initial rumor and looked at them again. Pierce was out there – had been out there for god knows how long – and there had to be a way to find him buried here amidst the videos and photos he had diligently collected.

“Jarvis,” Steve said. “I’m assuming you’ve alerted everyone on the team about this including Colonel Rhodes.”

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” Jarvis said.

“Natasha knows?” Steve said.

“Yes, Captain,” Jarvis said. “I have just informed her.”

“You’re monitoring all channels for Hydra activity?” Steve asked.

“Yes, Captain,” Jarvis said.

“Alright,” Steve said, letting out a hissed breath. “We need to get dressed and head out. We can still catch up to Bucky. He hasn’t had time to leave the city yet – we can track him down the old fashioned way.”

“Steve,” Tony said, shaking his head.

“Don’t tell me to let him go,” Steve said. “I’m not going to abandon him.”

“You’re not abandoning him,” Tony said. “He doesn’t want to be found.”

“He doesn’t get to stay hidden,” Steve said, flatly. “We’ll find him. He needs us.”

“There’s no use. He’s already gone, Steve. I’ve been cycling through every camera in the fucking city. He’s gone,” Tony said.

“He’s not _gone_ ,” Steve snapped.

“He’s _gone_ , Steve,” Tony said, softly. “He’ll come back when he wants to. He says so in his email and I believe that – I _have_ to believe that.”

Steve scowled and clenched his fists.

“Here,” Tony said, throwing up another holographic text box. This time, it held Bucky’s letter. “Read what he said.”

Steve stared at the text.

Tony wrapped his arms around his middle. He wanted Bucky back home with him. This wasn’t what he wanted – he would _never_ have asked Bucky to do something so dangerous. There wasn’t anything to make up for, as far as he was concerned. Bucky wasn’t to blame for his parent’s death – the Winter Soldier wasn’t the one who had ordered the hit. That had been Pierce’s decision.

“Take us up to the penthouse,” Steve said. He dropped his gaze to the floor and settled his hands on his knees.

Tony’s eyes welled up with tears. He buried his face in his hands, unable to hold back any longer.

The elevator began to move, sending them upwards.

“Why would he think hunting Pierce and Rumlow down without help would make me even _remotely_ happy?” Tony asked, his words choked off by a sob.

“You read what he said,” Steve said, dully. He looked up and smiled wearily at Tony. “He wants to make it up to you. He thinks this is the only way to make things right. He’s a stubborn bastard.”

“Well it’s not going to make things right,” Tony said. “There’s nothing to make right!”

“He’ll come back when he’s ready,” Steve said.

“Sure,” Tony said with a snort. “The problem is I want him back _now_.”

“Me too,” Steve said. He shifted closer until his knees were pressed up against Tony’s and reached out hesitantly, before pulling Tony into a hug. “It’ll be alright. He’s strong – he won’t let himself get killed. He’ll come back.”

Tony sniffled and buried his nose in Steve’s broad chest. “He better fucking come back,” he said. “We were talking about getting a cat together. He is not going to make me a single cat-parent.”

Steve let out a choked laugh and hugged Tony tighter. “It’ll be alright.”

Tony wondered if Steve believed what he was saying. He sure hoped Steve did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I know it's been a while since my last chapter so I made this one a long one! : ) Let me know if you find anything funny and I'll fix it as soon as I can!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky was gone and there wasn't anything they could do until he came back on his own.

The penthouse was not empty when the elevator doors snapped open. Natasha and Pepper were there, pacing in the kitchen, both sleep-rumpled and unhappy, dressed hastily in the clothing they had worn the day before. Pepper hurried over to Tony when he and Steve finally worked up the strength to walk in; she tugged Tony from Steve’s meaty grasp and hugged him tightly, burying her nose in his hair. “It’ll be alright,” she said. “Oh Tony. It’ll be alright.”

“I know,” Tony mumbled, wrapping his arms around Pepper. He still felt dizzy, like the world was about to slip out from under him, but having Pepper close made it bearable. She was always right – so it had to be true. It would be fine.

Natasha’s smile was bittersweet. She watched Tony from her place beside the kitchen table, her arms crossed over her chest, standing tense like she was preparing to go into battle.

Steve sighed heavily and stalked over to the table, pulling out a chair. He sat down heavily, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know what to do now,” he confessed. “I don’t know what to do if I’m not allowed to chase after him.”

“Me neither,” Tony said. “It feels surreal. He was just _here_. We were just in bed.”

Natasha scowled. “He should _still_ be here,” she muttered.

Tony let Pepper go slowly, allowing her drift back to Natasha. He wasn’t the only one who needed comforting, it seemed. Natasha’s face betrayed nothing, but he could tell just by the way she was so carefully composed that she was _angry_. She might not be all smiles when she was around them normally, but he could tell when she wasn’t feeling well – or at least, he was better at reading her than he had been when they had first met.

Natasha slumped against Pepper as Pepper wrapped her arms around her. “I’m sorry,” she said, locking eyes with Tony. “I should have known something was going to happen.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Tony said, shuffling over slowly to sit down at the table, feeling exhausted. He chose a seat beside Steve and let his lower arms rest against the table, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “If Steve and I couldn’t figure out what he was going to do, there wasn’t anything you could have seen. We knew him the best – _we_ should have known better.”

Steve heaved a sorrowful sigh. “Tony’s right,” he said.

“You’re both _insane_ if you think I’m going to let you take the blame for him leaving,” Natasha said with a growl.

Tony snorted. “No one’s to blame but Bucky,” he said.

Pepper kissed Natasha on the cheek and eased her towards the table, pulling a chair out for her. “All we can do now is wait,” she said. “Luckily we’re all very _good_ at waiting.”

Tony chuckled. “I guess all that practice pays off, huh?”

“I hope so,” Pepper said.

“He’ll be alright,” Steve said, not looking up from his hands. “Bucky’s always been good at finding his way out of trouble. He’ll be alright.”

“He’s pretty good at finding his way _into_ trouble too,” Tony said with a grunt. He glared down at the table, wishing he could feel more optimistic, but all he could think about was The Chair and what could happen if someone found a way to resurrect it. He had destroyed the plans Madame Hydra had had, but that didn’t mean that Hydra didn’t have a spare one hidden away somewhere. If the bastards had had organic LMD tech lying around for a rainy day, there could be far _worse_ things waiting to be unleashed. If Hydra found Bucky – if Hydra found Bucky and got control of him – there wouldn’t be anything they could do from the Tower. The Winter Soldier would be reborn.

Tony shuddered. Why hadn’t Bucky let them help? It wasn’t like they were new at the whole _heroing_ thing – they had been Avengers for a long time now. They wouldn’t have gotten in his way. Why had he decided to leave?

“Tony?” Steve said, his voice tentative.

“What?” Tony said, still staring at the table.

“Did you want something to eat?” Steve asked. “We were just talking about maybe getting some pancakes.”

“I’m not hungry,” Tony said. He pushed himself upright and staggered towards his bedroom. “I think I need to be alone for a while.”

“Tony,” Pepper called out.

Tony turned and flashed Pepper a tired smile. “It’s fine – I just, I just need to think for a while.”

“And you can’t do that out here?” Natasha asked, frowning.

“I need to set up some new searches for The Chair,” Tony said, his voice going flat. He wanted to pretend that nothing was wrong, that the worst wasn’t a possibility, but he couldn’t. The Chair wasn’t just a _boogeyman_ – it was real, and it could be used on anyone human. Bucky wouldn’t be the only one coming after them if Hydra got it up and running. They could take anyone. They could take Steve – they could snatch up Hawkeye. They could build themselves an army.

Steve paled. “You think The Chair could still be out there?”

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted, “But I’d rather have eyes on all possibilities.”

“Don’t stay in your head for too long,” Natasha warned. “I’ll come check up on you in a few hours.”

“Sure,” Tony said, waving her off. He pulled the door shut behind him and crawled into his bed, slipping under the covers. The indent Bucky’s head had left in the pillow was still there. He curled up on his side and let Extremis’ search feeds flow in front of him; the room blurred out into numbers and search grids as he began to cry.

 

 

True to her word, five hours later according to Extremis’ internal clock, Tony’s bedroom door opened and Natasha strode in. She sat down on the end of the bed and squeezed Tony’s foot but didn’t speak, her expression grim.

Tony sighed and blinked, letting the search results he had been watching flow back where they had come from. “Did something happen?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“There’s been no news from Bucky if that’s what you’re asking,” Natasha said. “We caught sight of him on a security camera at a sandwich shop, but we couldn’t pick up his trail. Jarvis sent you the feed already, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, yeah he did,” Tony said. He wiped at his eyes, wondering if Natasha could tell he had been crying.

“Steve’s worried about you,” Natasha said, softly.

“He shouldn’t be,” Tony said. “I’m fine.”

“He’s been sitting on the floor outside your door ever since you came in here,” Natasha continued. She squeezed Tony’s foot again, tugging at his toes. “You should come out and get something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Tony said, staring at the wall across from his bed.

“You’re a bad liar,” Natasha said, pinching Tony’s big toe. “You’re a ravenous bear in the mornings. You need to eat something.”

“I don’t want to,” Tony snapped, pulling his blankets up over his head. His foot was still exposed to the air, but he didn’t have the energy to pull away from Natasha.

“Tony,” Natasha murmured. “He wouldn’t want you to starve yourself to death while he’s gone.”

“Then he shouldn’t have _left_ ,” Tony said.

“He’s going to get his ass handed to him when I find him, don’t worry,” Natasha said, “but in the meantime you need to keep your strength up.”

“I’m working,” Tony said. “I’m busy. You can go now.”

“I don’t care if you’re working,” Natasha said, flatly. “Jarvis can handle everything while you take a break. You need to get out of this bed before you start growing fungus.”

“You’re an asshole,” Tony said.

“I know I am,” Natasha said. “But I’m an asshole who cares about you, and you need to eat.” She stood up and came around the bed on the opposite side from Tony, reaching for Bucky’s pillow so she could move clsoer.

Tony slapped at her hand, his eyes narrowed, his heart hammering in his chest again. “ _Don’t_.”

Natasha frowned down at him. She looked between him and the pillow and sighed softly, letting her hand return to her side. “It’s ok,” she said. “I’m not going to touch his pillow.”

“It’s all I have left,” Tony said. His eyes welled with tears.

“You have a closet full of his clothes,” Natasha said with a snort. “He’s still going to be here even if the pillow gets a little fluffed up.”

Tony stiffened.

“I didn’t say I was going to fluff the damn pillow,” Natasha said. “Now get up. Come on. Let’s get some food in you. You can come right back when you’re done, alright? The bed will still be waiting for you.”

“I’m not hungry,” Tony said.

“You are too,” Natasha said, scowling down at Tony. “Look. I didn’t want to do this.” She leaned closer. “But I need a favor.”

Tony squinted up at Natasha. “What?”

“Steve’s taking it hard,” Natasha said. “I need you to be brave for him, alright?”

“Steve’s _fine_. He’s a big boy,” Tony said with a snort.

“He’s a mess,” Natasha said. “Pepper’s been trying to get him to get him to help her put together a puzzle so he can keep busy but he hasn’t been able to get up off the floor.”

Tony scowled. Why couldn’t he just be unhappy and mopey for a few hours? Was that too much to ask?

“Tony,” Natasha said. She nudged the edge of the bed with her knee, making it wobble. “Come get something to eat. Kill two birds with a proverbial stone here – if you get up and eat, Steve might get up and eat. It’s a win-win situation.”

“But that means I have to get up,” Tony grumbled.

“I know,” Natasha said.

“Go away,” Tony pleaded.

“I’ll send Pepper in here if you don’t get up,” Natasha said, her hands on her hips. “I’ll do it. You know I will.”

Tony sat up. “You wouldn’t.”

“I _would_ ,” Natasha said, her smile forced. She was trying for playful, but it wasn’t really working. Now that he really was looking at her, he could tell that she wasn’t taking Bucky’s departure as well as he would have expected – not that he had expected her to be happy about it; he just hadn’t expected to see her looking quite so, well, _sad_.

Tony rubbed at his eyes. Maybe hiding in his bedroom with the blankets pulled up over his head waiting for Bucky to return hadn’t been the best plan. “Alright,” he said, pursing his lips. “I’ll get up and go eat if it makes you happy.”

“Good,” Natasha said.

“But I’m not going to do it because I want to,” Tony said.

“Fine,” Natasha said.

“And I guarantee nothing on the ‘ _this might motivate Steve to get up_ ’ front,” Tony continued. “If he decides to get up and start doing _normal_ Steve-things, then fine. But I’m not going to make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

“Sure,” Natasha said.

Tony squinted at Natasha again, suspicious. “What did you make for lunch?”

“You’re going to eat regardless of _what_ I made,” Natasha said, squinting back at Tony.

Tony smiled; it was hard not to when Natasha was frowning at him like an unhappy parent who had just spent hours making dinner for their petulant child. Pepper was certainly making an impression on her. That look alone was one she had most definitely stolen from Pepper. He got up slowly, knowing it would irritate Natasha and gave himself a sniff before heading directly into the bathroom. He hadn’t showered after coming home the night before and he deeply regretted that choice. He hated sleeping with greasy hair.

The bathroom door snapped open as he was pulling his underwear off, one leg held out so he could kick them away.

Natasha frowned at Tony.

“I’m _showering_ ,” Tony said, holding up his underwear, indifferent to his nudity. She’d seen him naked enough times now that she probably knew every damn freckle on his pasty ass. “I’m not trying to weasel out of going out there, I just smell fucking awful and would enjoy not seeing Pepper fan her nose all evening.”

Natasha continued to frown at Tony, unimpressed with his response.

Tony stepped into the shower and closed the shower door. “Are you doing alright?” he asked. Jarvis turned the shower on to his favourite setting as he settled under the showerhead; he leaned into the soft spray and grabbed for the shampoo Bucky liked the best. He looked down at the bottle and squeezed it so hard he nearly crushed it. Goddamn it. Why the hell had Bucky left? It wasn’t fair!

Natasha sat down on the closed toilet seat. “Does it matter how I am?” she asked.

“You dragged me out of bed,” Tony said. “It matters.”

Natasha sighed.

“I can hear you pouting from over here,” Tony said.

“I’m not _pouting_ ,” Natasha growled.

“Uh huh,” Tony said. He swallowed hard, glad that the shower was washing away the evidence of his tears, and squirted shampoo into his hand before tackling his unruly hair.

“I’m fine, Tony. How are you doing?” Natasha said.

“We’re not talking about _me_ right now,” Tony said. “We’re talking about you.”

“I don’t want to talk about me,” Natasha said.

“Fine,” Tony said. He washed the shampoo from his hair and grabbed the soap, smearing himself with bubbles. He was busy inspecting his armpit for hair when Natasha started speaking; it startled him so badly, he nearly sent his bar of soap flying into the shower door.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep him here,” Natasha said. She leaned lower, until her head was in her hands. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

Tony set the soap down and pulled the shower door open so he could lean out. “Its not your fault,” he said.

“I should have done more,” Natasha said. Her shoulders shook. Tony couldn’t see her crying, but he knew what was happening. “Pepper isn’t telling me I fucked up, but I know I did,” she said.

“You did _not_ fuck up,” Tony said. He wiped at the soap on his face. “You did what you promised you would do – you kept an eye on him. It’s not your fault he dug the fucking trackers out of himself.” He shuddered at the thought of Bucky going at himself with a knife and forced himself to keep talking. There must have been so much blood – oh shit. Nope. He was not going there. He was most definitely not going there. “He did that to himself – he figured out everything on his own.”

“I should have known he’d do it,” Natasha said, shaking her head. “They _always_ dig the trackers out at some point. They always do.”

“He wouldn’t have done it if SHIELD hadn’t gone and sent a goddamned email instead of explaining what had happened,” Tony said. “I mean, shit, Natasha – he and I were going to _happily_ go on our first goddamned date! He wasn’t going anywhere. I know he wasn’t.”

Natasha shrugged, still staring at the floor.

“Believe me,” Tony said. “Bucky wasn’t going anywhere. I would have hung off him like a goddamned baby koala if it meant keep him here and he knew that. Why do you think he ran off and did it all secretly? He _knew_ I wasn’t going to let him leave without a fight.”

“For the record,” Natasha said, her voice small, “I would have hung off him like a baby koala too if it meant keeping him here for you.”

Tony’s eyes watered. He stepped back under the shower, letting the water wash over him. “Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat.

“You’d have done the same for me,” Natasha said.

Tony smiled.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to just sit here for a while, alright?” Natasha said, wiping at her face. “I don’t want Pepper to see me like this.”

“Sure,” Tony said. “Take however long you need.”

 

 

When Tony dragged himself out of the shower, finally satisfied that he didn’t smell like something that had crawled in from the dumpster outside, he found that Natasha had wandered off and left the bathroom. He was initially disappointed that she hadn’t stuck around, but at the same time it made getting out of the shower while naked a hell of a lot easier. He dried himself off and wrapped his damp towel around his waist before sluggishly making his way into his room to go get dressed. He found Natasha in the bedroom, curled up on his side of the bed, carefully preserving the integrity of Bucky’s head impression on the other pillow. She didn’t look up when he came into the room, but she did grunt at him so he knew that she knew he was there.

Tony pulled on a red t-shirt with a doughnut on it and a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and flung his towel into the bathroom to deal with later. “Alright,” he said. “Are we ready now?”

Natasha and her head under the blankets.

“ _Hey_ ,” Tony said, scowling down at Natasha. “If _I’m_ not allowed to do that, you’re not allowed to do it either.” He gave the blankets a gentle tug and when she didn’t get up, flopped down on the bed, cuddling up behind her. He knew he might get an elbow to the nuts for his trouble, but it was worth the risk.

Natasha pulled the blankets closer. “I can see why you wanted to stay here.”

“It’s a good mattress,” Tony said. “It’s warm too.”

“It is,” Natasha said.

“Pepper’s going to wonder why we’re taking so long,” Tony said.

“I know,” Natasha said.

“I can lie and pretend I wanted to stay here for a while if you want,” Tony said. “She’ll believe me.”

“I don’t want you to lie to her,” Natasha said.

“It’s not _really_ a lie,” Tony said. “I _do_ want to stay here – I’ve just _already_ agreed to get up.”

Natasha rolled over and stared at Tony, their noses nearly touching. “If you ever hurt her, I swear to everything holy and unholy in the world that I will kill you.”

“Same to _you_ , red,” Tony said, flicking Natasha in the nose.

Natasha let out an indignant squawk and pushed Tony off the bed.

Tony hit the floor, laughing.

Natasha sat up and peered over the edge of the bed.

The door opened with a click. Pepper stepped inside, her hands on her hips. She glared at them both in turn. “What’s taking you two so long?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” Tony said from the floor.

“Nothing,” Natasha said, crawling off the bed, mindful of Bucky’s pillow.

Pepper watched suspiciously as Natasha pulled Tony upright. “I don’t know what you two were doing in here, but it better not have been something bad.”

“Bad?” Tony asked, as Pepper followed them to the kitchen table. He glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of Steve lying on the floor beside his bedroom door. He grimaced. He hadn’t thought it was really that bad but apparently Natasha hadn’t been making it up. Steve really did look bad.

“You going to stay there all night, Cap?” Tony asked.

Steve didn’t respond.

Tony turned around, nearly bumping chest to chest with Pepper. He took her by the shoulders and walked her around him towards Natasha. “Here – take this,” he said.

Natasha smiled.

Pepper scowled but allowed herself to be moved.

Tony knelt down in front of Steve. “You alright down there, big guy?”

Steve shrugged.

“Pep and Natasha made us dinner,” Tony said. “Let’s get something to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Steve mumbled. “It’s fine. Go eat – I’ll be alright.”

Tony gritted his teeth and kept his expression neutral. Natasha had been right to drag him out of his self-imposed exile. Steve looked like the human equivalent of ten kicked puppies. Trying not to sigh in case Steve took that as some kind of judgement, he stood up and made his way back to the kitchen table where dinner sat waiting. There was a delightful selection of almost-burnt grilled cheese and lumpy tomato soup set out, all of it still miraculously warm. He picked up a plate and grinned when Pepper slapped a squeeze bottle of ketchup into his hand. “Thank you,” he said, squirting a swirl of ketchup onto his plate between the halves of grilled cheese. He would come back for the soup later. Right now was about getting food into Steve, and spooning soup into a horizontal super soldier’s mouth would probably end in disaster. He picked up another plate of grilled cheese and gave it a swirl of ketchup too even though he wasn’t sure Steve would like it.

“You’d better come back for soup,” Natasha said. “I made that.”

Tony grinned and lifted the plates from the table. “Good to know,” he said.

“I opened the cans myself,” Natasha said primly.

Tony chuckled as he carried the plates of grilled cheese over to Steve. At least Natasha was feeling better. He sat down on the floor beside Steve and set one of the plates on his knee, holding the other just above the carpet.

Steve let out a weary groan and looked at the plate.

“Oh _look_ ,” Tony said, setting the plate down in front of Steve. “I brought too much. Whatever will I do?” He picked his plate up off of his knee and began smearing a grilled cheese halve in ketchup, humming to himself.

Steve pursed his lips.

“If you don’t eat it,” Tony said though a mouthful of grilled cheesy goodness, “I’ll just have to throw it out. I know how much you hate wasting food.”

Steve scowled and picked up the first chunk of grilled cheese.

“Sit up,” Tony said. “You’ll choke eating on your side.”

Steve sat up, bracing himself with his arm. Once he was upright, he began dipping the grilled cheese in ketchup, watching Tony. He took his first bite. His eyes widened; he began eating, stuffing grilled cheese in his mouth like he was afraid it was going to vanish.

Tony savored the taste of cheese and ketchup as he watched Steve demolish everything on his plate. No wonder Natasha had been worried; Steve was lucky the acid in his stomach hadn’t eaten clean through it if he was this ravenous. It was a good thing Natasha watched them all so closely.

Steve finished his grilled cheese and licked the breadcrumbs and ketchup smears off his fingertips. He eyed Tony’s plate and then wiped the crumbs from his face. “I guess I was hungry after all,” he said.

“I guess I was too,” Tony said. He patted Steve’s massive knee. “It’s alright. We all do it.”

Steve hung his head.

Tony put his plate down. “Steve?”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said.

“For what?” Tony asked.

“For making you worry,” Steve said. “It wasn’t fair. You shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

Tony’s right eyebrow began to twitch. Steve was apologizing to him? For worrying?

“I’m supposed to be better than this,” Steve muttered. “Sorry. I’m not being a very good leader, am I?”

“What?” Tony said. At first, he was confused and angry, but after a few seconds of calm reflection, he realized what it was that had bothered him. It wasn’t that Steve was apologizing to him. It was that Steve _actually_ thought that he had been a burden somehow – that Captain America not being in control had caused unnecessary pain to the rest of the team. It was _bizarre_. Tony watched Steve carefully, unsure of what to say. He wondered if this was something new, or if Steve had always been like this. He certainly hadn’t seen their fearless leader act this way before, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened when he wasn’t around.

“I’ll make it up to you, alright?” Steve said, looking up. He smiled timidly, looking far more pitiful than he had when he had been lying on the floor on his side.

“Nope,” Tony said, standing up. He carried his plate over to the table and set it down carefully even though he was angry enough to want to smash it; he knew now why Bruce avoided people most of the time – it was hard keeping calm when all he wanted to do was scream. He sat down, not allowing his anger to send him fleeing to his workshop for peace. This he had to get out – this he had to say without letting anger take hold, because if he didn’t say something now there was no way Steve would believe it later. “I am not listening to any more of this ‘I’ll make it up to you’ bullshit. What is it with you and Bucky? You two keep thinking you need to make up for something but you don’t,” he said. “You don’t owe me shit, Steve. I don’t need you to run off and do something crazy. I need you here – safe – you and Bucky.”

“Tony,” Steve said, getting up. He carried his plate over to the table and began loading it up with food, half focused on Tony and half on his stomach’s growing demands for sustenance. “I’m serious.”

“You don’t owe me _shit_ ,” Tony repeated. “We’re not just a team – we’re _friends_. _This_ is what we do. We look out for each other and yeah, sometimes we fuck up and sometimes stupid shit happens and we push each other away, but that’s life. What matters is that even though bad stuff happens we are all here to help pick up the pieces. I appreciate that you’re trying to look out for me – for all of us – but I don’t want you to take it all on by yourself.”

“I’m not taking it all on myself,” Steve insisted, putting another grilled cheese sandwich on his already overloaded plate. He sat down across from Tony and grabbed the ketchup, squirting it all over his towering stack of food.

Natasha glanced over at Tony, her expression carefully blank and then at Steve.

Pepper was not so carefully collected. She gazed at Steve over her half-eaten grilled cheese as she watched him start eating. “You know, Captain, you say you’re not taking everything on,” she said. “And yet here you are, stuffing yourself because you felt so badly about Bucky leaving Tony behind that you couldn’t bring yourself to eat.”

Tony flashed a relieved look at Pepper. “Thank you,” he said. “See? She sees it too.”

“And that goes the same for _you_ , you know,” Pepper said, scowling at Tony. She gestured at him with her grilled cheese. “ _You_ , you giant jackass – you locked yourself in your room trying to fix things all on your own. Don’t pretend like that’s not what you were doing. I know you, Tony Stark. I know you were trying to track Bucky down – and Pierce and Rumlow and everyone else.”

Tony looked down at his plate guiltily.

“And _you_ ,” Pepper said, turning to Natasha, grilled cheese still brandished like a sceptre. “You don’t get to take everything on either. None of you made Bucky’s decisions for him. He decided to leave on his own and he’ll decide to come back on his own. You will not be making him come home by starving yourself – or locking yourself up – or beating yourself up.” She turned to look at each of them, her eyes narrowed. “Now repeat after me.”

Tony, Steve and Natasha sat up a little straighter in their chairs.

“I will not blame myself for someone else’s decision,” Pepper said.

Tony, Steve and Natasha repeated Pepper’s words, not looking at each other.

“And I will not try and solve this problem all on my own,” Pepper continued.

Tony, Steve and Natasha mumbled back Pepper’s words.

Pepper squinted dangerously at them. “ _What_ did I just say?”

“We won’t try and solve this problem on our own,” Tony said.

“Good,” Pepper said. “Now eat up. We have plenty of food and there will be dessert when you’re done.”

Steve perked up.

“It’s lemon meringue pie,” Pepper said, taking a savage bite out of her grilled cheese.

Tony perked up.

Natasha cocked her head to the side. “You didn’t say anything about pie,” she said.

Pepper’s eyes twinkled. “I asked Happy to get one and snuck it in,” she said. “Now eat your dinner – we can talk about pie later.”

Tony grinned and grabbed for the soup bowl beside his plate. Maybe things weren’t so bad. When life gave you lemons, you could, after all, turn them into pie.

 

 

 

Three days later, Tony woke up in bed alone, gasping for breath as though he had been underwater. He clawed at the sheets beside him, looking for Bucky’s pillow, desperate for something to cling to and instead found Steve snoring like a chainsaw beside him. He panicked harder when he realized that Steve’s head was where Bucky’s pillow had been but calmed when he looked over at the dresser opposite his side of the bed; Bucky’s pillow was there, safe and sound. Steve had brought in one of his own.

Tony put his hand over his heart and lowered himself onto the bed again, taking in deep breaths as images of Bucky being strapped into The Chair snapped through his head, each image like a screenshot from surveillance footage. He knew it was a dream – he knew that it couldn’t possibly be something he had actually witnessed, even with Extremis in his head – but still it scared him. He rolled over, moving closer to Steve, seeking warmth as he pulled the blankets tight.

Steve woke with a snort. He looked around, groggy and confused and then went bright red when he realized that he and Tony were face to face. “Oh crap,” he said.

Tony smiled weakly, aware that he was sweaty, shivering and close to crying. “Hey there, big guy,” he said, his voice breaking.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Steve said, the redness from his face increasing as it crept up to the tips of his ears. “I just put my head down for a minute – I must have nodded off.”

“That’s ok,” Tony said quickly. “I don’t mind.”

Steve moved to push the blankets away and sit up; his hair was mussed from sleep, and the sight of him, befuddled and embarrassed all at once, made the fear Tony’s nightmare had dredged up drain away. It was hard to look at Steve and not find him impossibly endearing. He looked at Steve’s chin guiltily while he fought off the urge to kiss the grogginess from Steve’s lips and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder to keep Steve from fleeing. “It’s alright,” he said. “Stay – _please_?”

Steve hesitated and then let out a huffed laugh. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“You’ve said that already,” Tony said. “No more being sorry.”

“It’s just,” Steve said, looking up at the ceiling as he settled in bed again, “I miss having Bucky around. And this is the one place he spent the most time.”

“He did spend a lot of time here,” Tony murmured. He reached out and tangled his fingers in Steve’s hair, unable to resist fixing the mess sleep had brought to those golden strands. Steve leaned into the touch and sighed.

“Tony?” Steve said.

“Yes?” Tony said.

“Bucky will come back for you,” Steve said. “He’s not going to leave you alone.”

Tony grimaced. “Steve – I know.”

“I know it seems like he’s been gone a long time, but he’ll be back soon, and then you two can go on your date just like you planned,” Steve said.

“I hope so,” Tony said.

“I _know_ so,” Steve said eagerly. “He’s always been good about stuff like that – well, he was – you know. Back before.”

“Right,” Tony said, dryly. It was strange to think that a person could be mad at someone and utterly terrified for them at the same time. Part of him wanted to strangle Bucky; the rest of him wanted to hold on and never let go. He knew that Bucky wasn’t going to stay away forever, but he couldn’t stop worrying about what might happen. How much of the man Bucky Barnes had been before the war was still around? Was that particular trait – Bucky showing up for dates –still there? He didn’t have the heart to speak; it felt cruel just _thinking_ it. He wanted Bucky back more than anything. He knew that Bucky didn’t remember much of his past because Bucky had admitted it. But did Steve know that? Did Steve know that the James Buchanan Barnes he had befriended a second time might not be the same man he had known all those years ago?

Bucky’s memories were obviously good enough to let him get by, even if he didn’t remember Steve all that well; the lack of them certainly hadn’t changed Bucky’s affection for Steve, although it had taken a while for them to get going again. The two were close, but still, fear whispered in Tony’s mind that there might be some things that had happened between Bucky and Steve years ago that had been forgotten – important things. Steve hadn’t expected Bucky to leave; neither had he. Clearly they both didn’t know him as well as they had thought. Or was he simply overthinking things?

An email icon blinked in Tony’s peripheral vision. He used Extremis to pull the email up in his head and looked it over, expecting to find something boring from the Board. His breath caught in his throat; the email wasn’t from the Board. It was from Bucky, and while there was only one line of text in the email, there was an attachment.

‘ _Here’s something to keep you busy while I’m gone.’_

What the hell did _that_ mean? He read the line three times before touching the attachment, and when he did, his chest felt like someone had sat on it. The attachment opened, revealing a picture. Bucky had taken this picture here, months ago, when they had first started dating. It wasn’t a particular erotic picture, but Tony could tell from the way Bucky was smiling shyly into the camera that Bucky had been _trying_ for erotic, even if he had failed miserably. The Bucky in the picture had his shirt open, the buttons popped to reveal a line of skin running from his throat to his hips; the line drew Tony’s eye, and when he followed it down lower, he realized that maybe he had been too hasty to judge the picture. Bucky’s pants weren’t quite pulled up all the way. The rough cut of his hips was there for everyone to see, as was a little fringe of hair. Tony took in a sharp breath and licked his dry lips. If someone had grabbed those pants and tugged a little, they would have come right off. He swallowed hard and wondered why he hadn’t done anything about that particular situation back then.

“Tony?” Steve said, rolling over. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Tony said. He smiled sheepishly and memorized the picture, saving it in a folder that only he could access, hiding his treasure away. “I just thought about something Bucky did. It’s nothing important.”

Steve smiled softly. His hair flopped across his forehead, momentarily obscuring his eyes; he had been keeping his hair pretty close cropped after the attack on New York, but after Bucky had moved into the tower he had started letting it grow out again. Now it was long enough to curl your fingers in.

Tony pursed his lips and rolled onto his back so he could stare up at the ceiling. Looking Steve in the eye after staring at that picture was starting to be too much, especially since all he wanted to do was play with Steve’s hair again. He did that with Bucky all the time. Bucky was always complaining about how much he played with his hair. The memory of Bucky’s grumpy face after he had fooled around with his bangs made him grimace as if he had been hit. Damn it. He wanted Bucky home. Why couldn’t Bucky be here now?

“You sure everything’s ok?” Steve asked.

Tony sighed and gave in to temptation; he tangled his fingers in Steve’s hair, brushing it back so Steve could see. “I’m fine,” he said. “Bucky sent me an email. He attached a picture to it – said it was something to keep me busy while he was gone.”

Steve frowned.

“And no,” Tony said, putting a finger on the tip of Steve’s nose. “It’s a dirty picture so you can’t see it.”

Steve went bright red.

Tony grinned up at the ceiling.

“At least we know he’s alright,” Steve said, gently pushing Tony’s finger away.

“It’s an old picture,” Tony said. “But yeah – I hope that’s what it means.”

“What else _could_ it mean?” Steve asked, heaving a sigh in annoyance. “He took the time to send you a dirty picture. That definitely meant something.”

“He attached an _old_ picture,” Tony said. “He didn’t take a new one.”

“Oh,” Steve said.

“He probably doesn’t want me to try and track him,” Tony grumbled. “Stupid jerk.”

Steve grimaced. “He’s a fast learner.”

“He knows me too well, too,” Tony lamented.

Steve chuckled. “At least he sent you pictures. He’s obviously thinking about you.”

Tony smiled softly. “Yeah – I guess he is.” He tucked his hands under his head, his elbows sticking out. “If he’s expecting to get a dirty picture back he’s got another thing coming.”

Steve let out a barked laugh.

 

 

Tony got up for breakfast only because Steve physically pulled him out of bed and carried him to the table. Truth be told, he hadn’t _exactly_ put of a fight – he had simply gone dead-weight and hoped for the best. And the best had, indeed, happened, because he found the kitchen table full of pancakes, syrups, bran muffins and an oddly healthy assortment of vegetables and fruit without dip.

Sam looked up from his newspaper as Tony was set down in a chair by Steve. He had arrived that morning after being delayed at the VA where he worked; it was a miracle he was awake at all. “I see you two are getting along,” he said.

“I guess you could call it that,” Tony said, reaching for the plate of pancakes. He grunted when Natasha dropped a tablet on his head and snatched it out of the air before it could break. A quick glance down let him know exactly who owned the tablet. It was Bucky’s and the battery was still running strong despite the fact that it hadn’t been used since his departure.

“This infernal device keeps beeping,” Natasha said, pulling up a chair beside Tony, keeping Pepper to her left. She stole the plate of pancakes Tony had been reaching for and plopped three down on her plate, smiling sweetly at him as she did it.

Tony scowled and set the tablet down on the table in front of him, pushing his plate out of the way. He prodded the tablet, bringing it to life and unlocked it; it wasn’t hard to break in. Bucky had set the password as _dipshittablet1_ – he’d been angry when it had asked him to set up a password before he could play with it – and it was a password that was hard to forget. The infernal beeping Natasha had been complaining about was coming from a game Bucky had installed; it was leaving notifications every few hours, and seemed intent on begging its way back into use even though there was no one there to beg. Tony went into the settings window, scowling at the app for it having gotten in the way of his breakfast, and shut the notifications off. If Bucky wanted to be constantly reminded to screw around with bubbles that needed popping, he could change it back later. As he minimized the window, he realized that the game wasn’t the only thing open. There, waiting in ram, was a bookmarked webpage – one for the Cats Looking for Homes Adoption Agency. That was interesting. Apparently Bucky had been looking around for cats again and considering the site was bookmarked, it must have been a favourite.

Tony scrolled down and saw that all of the animals on the site were up for adoption still. One in particular caught his eye. This had to have been the _fuck-ugliest_ cat Tony had ever seen. The cat was pudgy and had two fanged teeth sticking out of the sides of its mouth so not only did it appear to be _glaring_ all the time like it thought it was being surrounded by peons, it was perpetually walking around with a mouth that was slightly open. The cat was covered in grey fur with black and white spots; it was such a light grey, it looked like it needed a good wash even though it was already clean. This cat had been through hell. Stompy, as the website called him, had only three legs after a ‘run in with a stranger’s car. Someone had apparently found the cat wandering around on a mangled leg and had brought him in after wrestling him into a cat carrier. One of the agency’s vets had been forced to amputate the cat’s back right leg, and quite a lot of expensive surgery had been done to get the cat mobile again.

Natasha leaned closer, a piece of pancake stuck on the end of her fork and looked at the tablet.

Tony bit the pancake off of her fork and chewed thoughtfully as she scowled at him.

“Is that _Bucky’s_ tablet?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “I guess he was looking at these guys before he left.”

Natasha put her fork down and snatched the tablet from Tony; she scrolled through the list and then returned to the ugly cat Tony had been looking at. She tapped the cat’s photo and enlarged it. “Is this supposed to be a cat?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Tony said with a grimace. “It’s got one _hell_ of a face.”

“It’s surprising he’s such a fat little fellow,” Natasha said. “You’d think no one would be suckered into giving him extra helpings.”

“You’d be surprised how easy it is to get suckered in by a hungry cat,” Tony said. He pulled the pancake plate towards him as his stomach grumbled to life. He smothered his pancakes in blueberry syrup and dug in.

“You could go see him today if you want,” Natasha said, pushing the tablet towards Tony.

Tony licked syrup off his lips. “What? Why?”

“I thought you and Barnes were talking about getting a cat,” Steve said. “Was this one of the ones Bucky was looking at?”

“Jarvis?” Tony said, attention still on his food.

“Mr. Barnes has viewed this particular page over sixty times in the past few weeks, sir,” Jarvis said.

 _Sixty_ times? That was a lot of page views – too many to ignore. Tony put his fork down and wiped at his mouth. “I guess we could go give the great and powerful Stompy a visit,” he said. “You know – see what he’s like. It’s not like we have to bring him home today.”

“That sounds like fun,” Steve said. “We can have Happy drive us down there.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “ _You_ want to come with me to visit a bunch of cats in cages?”

“I’ll come too if you don’t mind me tagging along,” Sam said. “I wouldn’t mind getting some cuddle time in with a few cats. Its been a long week.”

“You coming too, Natasha?” Tony said, glancing over at the assassin.

Natasha shook her head and smiled at Pepper. “I think I’ll stay here,” she said. “I’ve got plenty to do.”

“I didn’t realise your name was now _plenty_ , Pep,” Tony said, leering at Pepper.

Pepper went bright red and smacked Tony in the shoulder. “Fuck off,” she said.

Natasha let out a snort and then went back to eating. “You’re crude, Stark.”

“You started it,” Tony said.

“And I’ll end it too,” Natasha said, leering at Tony.

Pepper scowled. “You two are _awful_ ,” she said. “I hate you both.”

Tony grinned. “Aww, don’t say that,” he said. “You’ll hurt our _feeling_.”

Natasha smirked.

Sam chuckled and glanced over at Steve. “Are they _always_ like this?”

“I have no idea,” Steve said. “You’d have to ask Jarvis to find out for sure.”

“I thought you guys hung out all the time?” Sam said.

“We do,” Natasha said. “We just don’t always have breakfast together. Normally no one comes up to Tony’s penthouse because we don’t want to risk blinding ourselves when he walks naked into the kitchen.”

“Oh?” Sam said, laughing. “That happens a lot?”

“Only when I’m too lazy to put on clothes,” Tony said. He pushing his empty plate away with a long, satisfied burp that made Natasha elbow him and stood up. “Jarvis? Call Happy and tell him where we’re going. I’m going to go get dressed.”

“Mr. Hogan has been informed and has put your suitcase armor in the car, sir,” Jarvis said.

Tony smiled fondly, glad that Jarvis had taken the initiative to call Happy up already. It was nice to have something to do today other than what would normally occupy his thoughts; the less time he spent cooped up in his room staring at search results and his emails waiting for Bucky to send something new the better. A trip outside would be good and a trip to see a bunch of cats looking for love would be fantastic for his aching heart. And besides – it couldn’t hurt to _look_ at something Bucky was interested in. The cat had been on Bucky’s mind, but Bucky hadn’t visited the adoption agency yet. Who knew? Maybe this would end up being the cat they were hypothetically thinking about getting. And there were plenty of other cats and kittens to visit. He could leave a donation and get a few pictures of Steve covered in kittens. He couldn’t have planned a better day if he had tried.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long - I'll try to keep to an 'every two weeks' schedule from now on but we'll see what the months have in store. There's plenty to be done still so don't worry. Thanks for all the awesome comments!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony, Sam and Steve headed out to visit cats at the adoption centre - they didn't expect to run into anyone they knew.

Tony was shaking with a mixture of excitement and terror as he walked out of the elevator and into the parkade; he was flanked by Steve and Sam, and while he knew that he was safe – Thor and Clint would be tailing them the entire way, and he would have Steve there and Sam by his side – a part of him still wondered if someone was out there crazy enough to try and jump out at them during some point of their trip. Super villains didn’t exactly use their brains all the time – well, the good ones did, but the bad ones just liked to stir up shit when they could, and now would be a pretty good time to do that. He sighed and took in a deep breath through his nose. No one was going to attack them. No one would be _that_ stupid – not unless they were more powerful than all of the Avengers combined, and if that was the case they were pretty much screwed already. He took in another sharp breath through his nose. It would be fine. He would be fine. Bucky would be fine – everyone would be _fine_. Today was shaping up to be a good day. He was going to get to see cats, and he was going out on a trip with his friends. Hell, it was nice to see Happy excited about going on a trip again and with the suitcase armor sitting on his lap, he knew that even if trouble came, they would be able to deal with it. He allowed himself to be crammed into the car and relaxed as he found himself seat-belted in by an enthusiastic Steve.

Sam looked out the window as Happy drove them up and out of the parkade. “So,” he drawled. “A little birdie told me you had someone you wanted to introduce me to.”

Tony let out a snort. “Which _birdie_ told you that?”

Sam scowled. “Never mind,” he said.

Steve reached around Tony and gave Sam a pat on the shoulder. “Rhodey’s off on a mission right now,” he said. “Don’t worry. You two will get an introduction as soon he’s back, I’m sure.”

Tony grinned and elbowed Steve. “You’re playing matchmaker now?”

Steve smirked. “Why not?”

“I figured it would be Natasha doing all the heavy lifting,” Tony said with a shrug.

Sam turned and scowled at Tony. “What the hell are you two going on about?”

“Nothing,” Steve said, quickly. “We can talk about that later.”

“Right,” Sam said. “ _Later_.” He sighed and leaned against the door. “You know, when you said I’d get to meet a hot guy, I thought you meant _now_ – not in my _lifetime_.”

Tony chuckled. He had a feeling Rhodey would be acting the same way if it was him in the car with them. This was nice. Here he didn’t have to worry about Bucky, or death or whatever else was lurking in the future for them. Here he could just watch and smile as Sam tried to get them to call Rhodey back early; it was disgustingly sweet, and absolutely adorable. “Tell you what,” he said. He knew how to improve Sam’s mood. “I’ll upgrade your wings if you want.”

Sam perked up. “ _That’s_ what I’m talking about,” he said, grinning broadly. “See? I knew you weren’t a complete jerk.”

Tony laughed. “I’m just giving you an upgrade, not the keys to my house.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s better than a kick in the ass with a frozen boot.”

Tony chuckled.

“So,” Steve said clearing his throat. His hands were in his lap and it looked like he didn’t know what to do with them; he kept twiddling his thumbs. “We’ll go in, visit a bit, see all the cats and then grab lunch and go home – does that sound good to you?”

“Sounds like my kind of day,” Tony said. He drummed his finger idly on the suitcase armor in his lap and hoped that he wouldn’t have to use it. Today would be a good day, he reminded himself. No thoughts about _death_ or losing Bucky would be permitted – at least, not while they were here. He could mope at home all he wanted, but today was about doing something fun. Still – he wished Bucky was here to share it with him.

 

 

They arrived at the Cats Looking for Homes Adoption Agency just before it was about to open for visiting hours. Happy took the car around back to drop them off and then, on Steve’s advice, headed off to go scout out places for lunch while they were busy. He seemed more than happy to keep his clothing cat hair free.

Steve and Sam flanked Tony as they made their way through the front door, relaxing only when they were inside and out of sight.

The old black woman standing at the information desk looked up from her breakfast of take-out pancakes and eggs, seemingly startled. “Hello,” she said. “Are you here to visit or adopt?”

“We’re here for a little of both, actually,” Tony said.

The woman eyed Tony suspiciously and then sighed. “Have you been here before?”

“Nope,” Tony said.

“You look _awfully_ familiar,” the woman said, squinting at Tony through her glasses.

“People say that all the time,” Tony said.

“I wasn’t talking about _you_ ,” the woman said. She nodded to Steve. “You’re Captain America.”

Steve smiled softly. “I am,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

The woman chuckled. “My neighbor’s son Eli talks about you all the time,” she said. “Would you mind signing something so I can take it home with me?”

“Sure,” Steve said, grinning broadly.

Tony watched as Steve casually chatted up the woman while signing his name on a napkin, feeling lost. While it was nice not to be recognized, it was surreal to stand by while Steve was shining in the spotlight; Sam seemed to think the same thing, because he couldn’t stop looking between the woman and Steve, even when the two had stopped chatting and Steve had wrangled them a quick tour. They followed along, checking out the various rooms they would soon be allowed to visit; there were cats here, hundreds of cats and while this wasn’t a massive property considering where it was within the city the rescue agency had done as much as they could with what they had. The cats were allowed to wander amongst themselves provided they kept to certain rooms and didn’t make it through any of the doors that kept them separated from the outside world. There were checkpoints around the building where the animals weren’t allowed to cross and a stairway upstairs where sick animals were being housed; the animals upstairs were too sick to be visited, and contact between them and the healthy animals might prove catastrophic. There was hand sanitizer around at pretty much every door, and a sink on every other wall so people could wash their hands. They were taking no chances.

Tony peered into the kitten room, his eyes wide with wonder. There was a woman kneeling amidst a herd of squealing and mewling kittens; he recognized her instantly and leaned against the sliding glass door that separated the room from the hallway. He pulled the door open slightly. “Aunt Dottie?” he called out.

The woman turned around lightning fast. She looked like she was in her late twenties even though she had to be going past ninety five. Her hair was obsidian and short. Her eyes were keen and silvery blue, her gaze intense even though she was surrounded by kittens. She was dressed down today and was wearing a pair of grey slacks with a white dress shirt with long sleeves. She smiled at Tony, her lips painted crimson. “Tony! What a surprise!”

Tony grinned as he slipped into the room and shut the door behind him so the many kittens inside couldn’t get out. He hurried over to hug Dottie as she stood, setting his briefcase down beside his feet. He hadn’t seen Dottie in _years_. It felt weird to have not seen her around. Normally she was in and out of the city at least once a week and she always found time for them to have lunch or sneak off from meetings to go have ice cream or do something entertaining like getting muffins so they could spend time heckling pigeons in the park. When Peggy had died, things had changed; Dottie had seemingly dropped off the face of the earth, emerging rarely from her new abode, if at all. He had missed her sorely. Dottie had been a constant in his childhood, popping up here and there, always closely followed by a fuming Peggy. He hadn’t asked for the truth back then; having an adult pay attention to him had been good enough and now there was no one to ask about her. He didn’t even know her _birthday_ – she hadn’t told him anything personal, although a few times she had offered information about Peggy.

“How are you doing, Tony?” Dottie asked.

“I’m alright,” Tony said.

Dottie still looked like she had when he was young, but now he could see that her eyes had hardened since Peggy’s death. It had hit them all hard; it had hit Dottie hardest of all.

Dottie gave Tony a tight squeeze. “You look tired,” she said. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“That sounds like something Peggy would say,” Tony grumbled. He allowed her to fuss over him, happy to have her close. She was wearing the same perfume Peggy always wore, and it made him smile.

Dottie sighed with faux weariness. “I’m sure that’s true. We all know what a drag she could be when she was worried,” she said, patting Tony’s cheek. “You should give yourself as proper shave. You look like a scruffy dog.”

“I do _not_ ,” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

“So why haven’t you shaved?” Dottie asked, pursing her lips. “Something wrong?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it right now,” Tony said. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “What brings you here? You looking for a cat?”

Dottie chuckled. “Oh, you know how it is. If you don’t get married these days they say you need to have a house full of cats. I prefer to visit mine instead of living in it.”

“That’s one way of doing it,” Tony said with a laugh.

Dottie cocked her head to the side, looking around Tony. “Oh my,” she said. “Who’s the _handsome_ fellows you’ve brought with you?”

Tony turned slowly, moving cautiously so he wouldn’t dislodge the kittens climbing his pant legs. Steve and Sam were framed by the doorway, peering in at him through the glass door. Their temporary tour guide stood behind them, her hands on her hips, likely annoyed by the detour.

“Hey, Tony,” Sam called out, inching his way into the room as he pulled the door open. “Found someone you know?”

Tony grinned. “This is my Aunt Dottie,” he said. “She was a friend of Peggy’s.”

Steve nearly tripped over his own feet as he hurried into the room behind Sam.

Sam cocked an eyebrow. “ _Smooth_ ,” he said, grabbing the sliding glass door by the handle. He thanked their guide and told her they could find their way around before letting the door shut. Their guide gave Dottie a frown and left.

“You knew Peggy?” Steve said, approaching Dottie cautiously as though afraid she might sprint off if he spoke too loudly.

Dottie cocked her hip to the side. She snapped her fingers. “Oh I know who you are now – you’re the great Steve Rogers. Peggy used to talk about you all the time!”

“She did?” Steve said.

“We were _very_ good friends,” Dottie said, flashing Steve a brilliant smile. She gave him a look-over, starting at his feet and working her way to his face and then nodded approvingly. “I can see why Tony wants to go out with you.”

Tony went beet red. “I do _not_ ,” he said, his voice cracking, horrified that she had picked up on his crush so impossibly quick. “I’m dating someone – I’m not looking for another boyfriend.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dottie’s smile grew brighter. “I’m sure your current boyfriend wouldn’t mind if you invite tall, blonde and muscular into your relationship.”

This time it was Steve who went bright red. “Ma’am,” he said, his voice more of a croak than anything, “I’m not sure what you’re saying but I don’t think Bucky and Tony swing that way.”

Dottie frowned. “Have you _asked_?”

Steve swallowed hard. “Uh,” he said, looking over at Sam. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Aunt Dottie,” Tony said, putting his face in his hands. “Stop – please.”

Dottie scowled, her hands settling onto her hips. “Fine – stay _boring_.”

Steve cleared his throat and dropped down to his knees so he could gently pat the kitten trying to untie his laces. “This is nice – very nice. Cats are nice.”

Dottie sighed and locked eyes with Sam. “Men,” she said.

Sam grinned.

Tony sighed. “You two are horrible people,” he said.

“Hey,” Sam said, rolling his eyes at Tony. “ _I’m_ not the one who promised to introduce someone to their friend and then _didn’t_.”

Dottie let out a laugh and wrapped her arms around her middle. “Oh dear,” she said. “That’s very _cruel_ , of you. Didn’t Peggy raise you better?”

Tony groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve changed my mind. You two are _evil_ and horrible,” he said. He dropped to his knees beside Steve, shooing kittens out of his way and sat down cross-legged on the floor. Kittens crawled into his lap, mewing loudly, pleased with him. He held them close as they purred and chewed merrily on his clothes. This felt _good_ – this felt _amazing_ compared to the shitty week he had been having. He booped one of the kittens on the nose and grinned when it booped him back, ramming its head into his hand.

Dottie sat down daintily on the floor beside Tony; Sam sat down beside Steve.

“Are you going to adopt one?” Dottie asked, scooping up a ginger kitten. She set it down on her lap and let it chew on her hand.

“I don’t know,” Tony said. He gave the grey tabby kitten in his lap a scratch behind the ears. It really would be nice to have a cat around again. “I’m thinking about it.”

“Your boyfriend is ok with that?” Dottie asked.

“With what?” Tony said. “Adopting a cat? Or not getting one now?”

Dottie smiled serenely. “Both.”

Tony sighed. A kitten began climbing his back; he leaned forwards so it could have an easier trip up to his shoulder. “He’s not here right now,” he admitted.

“Bucky? That’s his name, right?” Dottie said. “That’s a familiar name. Was he in the news recently?”

“I don’t think so. He’s my best friend from childhood,” Steve said, stroking a fluffy black kitten as it drooled all over his ankles. It left nibble marks in his pants as it circled and flopped down to nap on his knee.

“Oh, I see. He’s _that_ Bucky,” Dottie said. She grinned widely at Tony. “He’s very handsome – or so I’ve seen in that _delightful_ Captain America exhibit downtown. I’m assuming you’re dressing him better these days of course.”

“He’s handsome in whatever he wears,” Tony said, smiling softly.

“So where is he?” Dottie asked. “Shouldn’t he be here with you, picking out your little bundle of fluff?”

Tony grimaced.

“Ah, right. Sorry, darling. I forgot – you don’t want to talk about it,” Dottie said.

Tony sighed and gently adjusted the kitten in his lap so its butt wasn’t pressed up against his leg. “He’s gone off on some stupid mission,” he said. “He thinks that’s what he needs to do to make some things up to me.”

“Oh?” Dottie said with a frown. “You didn’t want him to leave?”

“He snuck off on me to go fight evil,” Tony muttered. “I wanted him here where he’d be safe.”

“Oh _dear_ ,” Dottie said, clicking her tongue. “Sounds like you’re going to need to punish him when he comes home.”

Tony chuckled darkly. “Yeah,” he said. “He’s going to be baking apology cakes for years to come.”

Dottie pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I’ll _help_ you punish him if you want,” she said. She began taking pictures of Tony, smiling at everything she took. “He’ll see you happy and just have to come home.”

Tony grinned sheepishly. “You don’t have to do that,” he said. He wasn’t so sure he would send Bucky anything in return – at least, not yet. He was still mad that Bucky had left, and sending the jerk pictures back felt like giving in somehow.

“Oh _nonsense_ ,” Dottie said. “It’s my pleasure. You know how much I love having pictures of you to show –.” She sighed and lowered the camera.

Tony put his hand on hers. “I’m sure she’s happy you’re watching out for me still,” he said.

Dottie’s eyes watered. “Life’s a lot more boring without her chasing me around,” she said.

Steve looked down at the kitten in his lap. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, swallowing hard. “It’s weird not having her here.”

Dottie squeezed Tony’s hand.

Steve smiled, his eyes tearing up. “She was a great gal,” he said.

“I’m sure she would have been happy to see you again,” Dottie said, smiling at Steve. “In the end, you were _all_ she could talk about.” She stood up and put her phone back in her pocket. “Enough cute things – let’s go look at the adoptable adults. I’m sure that’s who you came to see,” she said. “I know you, Tony Stark, and you’re always looking for something to save.”

Tony gently plucked the kitten from his shoulder, setting it down on the ground. Dottie was right. They could come and play with the kittens again later. Stompy was here in a cage, and the poor cat could probably use a good cuddle. He maneuvered himself out from the kittens trying to climb him and picked up his briefcase armor, lifting it up against his chest so he wouldn’t accidentally swing it.

Steve and Sam stood, freeing themselves from their kittens.

Sam pursed his lips. “We’d better get out of here,” he said. “I’m more of a bird person but _I’m_ starting to want a cat.”

Steve chuckled. “I know what you mean.” He looked down at the kittens and sighed. “We should do a fundraiser for these little guys – they deserve nice homes.”

“Good idea,” Tony said. He pulled out his phone as he slid open the sliding door, holding it open for Dottie so she could walk out. He sent a message to Pepper about scheduling a sponsorship program for the Cats Looking for Homes Adoption Agency and then sent himself a reminder so he wouldn’t forget to check up on the answer.

Dottie cocked her head to the side. “Are you fellas coming or are you going to stand around all day?”

Tony chuckled. “Hold on,” he said, shutting the door behind Steve so the toddling tabby following him wouldn’t run out into the hallway. The kitten pawed at the door and mewled sadly. “Sorry buddy,” he said. “We’ll see you again later.”

 

 

Dottie led the way. She knew all the right rooms to check, and none of the volunteers seemed to mind that she was leading around a group of strangers; she smiled at everyone she approached and they smiled right back.

“And the name was Stompy?” Dottie said. “You’re sure that’s what it was?”

“That’s what the profile on the website called him,” Tony said.

“Then this is where he should be.” Dottie pushed open the doors to the next room and smirked. There, a few feet away, was the entrance to the adult cat adoption centre; this was where cats who were ready to go out and see the world were housed until they found owners. She led the way inside, letting Tony and Steve hold the doors open as the rest of them hurried inside after her.

Tony wrinkled his nose. There was an awful lot of cat-smell here, and it wasn’t entirely _pleasant_. Mind you, when there were fifty different litter boxes in cages, it was kind of a miracle that the smell wasn’t even _stronger_. The volunteers were doing an amazing job.

The cages were stacked like miniature condos, three high and in some places, ten wide. Every cat in the room peered through the bars at them, attracted by the noise. A few meowed plaintively; others stuck their paws between the bars and tried to lure them in closer.

Steve stuck close to Tony, checking nametags on the cages.

Tony’s heart felt like it was breaking. He wanted to take every last cat home, but he knew that he couldn’t. He would have to donate instead – find homes for the cats another way, one that would have him filling the tower with cats. Strictly speaking, he could probably do that, though. He drummed his fingers on his chin. Maybe if he moved some of the office space around – shifted a few of the walls –

“Tony,” Steve said.

Tony shook his head. “Yeah?” He could set up a detailed plan later if Pepper didn’t smack him.

Steve took Tony by the shoulders and guided him over to a cage; it was at eye level and near the furthest corner of the room. All the other cages around this one were empty and inside, dwelled, according to the paper tag stuck to the door, was ‘Lord Stompy’. How the cat had gained a lordship was beyond Tony, but when he looked inside, the name fit the cat. It was the ugliest thing Tony had seen – far uglier than the picture had been – but it was a regal sort of ugly, and while the poor guy looked like he was thinking about murder all the time, he also seemed sad.

Tony held his hand out in front of the bars. “Hey sweetie,” he cooed.

Lord Stompy moved with incredible alacrity. He grabbed Tony with his good front paw and held on, sinking his sharp teeth into Tony’s hand.

Steve winced. “Uh, I was just about to tell you not to do that,” he said, pointing at the sign on Lord Stompy’s cage. “It says he bites like a mother -.” He looked over at Dottie and then back at the cat, his face completely composed as if he hadn’t said anything that was the lead up to something rude.

Tony stared down at the cat, his eyes watering as pain coursed through his arm. He wanted to pull away but he knew that the moment he did, the cat would likely sink his teeth in _deeper_. “Hey,” he said. “Stop it. _No_.”

Lord Stompy looked at Tony, his eyes wide and wild.

Tony stared right back at the cat. “Let go.”

Lord Stompy slowly released Tony’s hand, and then, to Tony’s surprise, started licking him.

Steve frowned. “Is he – is that good?”

Tony squinted at the cat, trying not to make direct eye contact. “I have no idea,” he said. “Either he’s secretly a vampire or he’s apologizing for trying to eat me.”

Dottie laughed and put her hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Poor _baby_ ,” she said, kissing his cheek. She smiled at Lord Stompy. “Look at him. He’s certainly _handsome_.”

“That’s one word for him,” Steve muttered.

Sam sighed. “Out of all the cats here, _that’s_ the one you were looking for?” He grimaced. “He looks like he wants to kill all of us.”

“It says here he’s been flagged as dangerous,” Dottie said, going up on the tips of her toes so she could stare at the papers taped to Lord Stompy’s cage. “Poor little dear likes to bite the cleaners – and everyone else.”

Lord Stomy let out a long, suffering sigh and pawed at Tony’s hand again, this time sans claws. He rubbed his nose against Tony’s finger and then sat himself down, resting his chin on his paw. He looked up at Tony, his wild eyes a little watery, and then sighed again.

Tony’s lower lip trembled at the sight. “It’s ok buddy,” he said. “I’m going to take you home.”

Steve smiling at Tony fondly. “I had a feeling this was going to happen.”

Sam pursed his lips as he read the papers taped the cage over Dottie’s head. “It says here he’s been adopted out three times and brought back each time,” he said. “Apparently he becomes, and I’m quoting directly here, ‘little lord _murderface’_ when he’s in the dark. Are you sure that’s what you want running around your tower?”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t think he’s that bad,” he said.

“I bet that’s what all the _other_ people said,” Sam said.

Steve squeezed Tony’s shoulder. “Whatever you chose to do, we’ll be there for you.”

“Yep,” Sam said, slapping Tony on the back. “We’ll be there for you – well, personally, I’ll be standing on Steve’s shoulders so Lord Stompy can’t eat me, but I’ll be there.”

Tony chuckled. “I hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said.

Dottie’s smile was sharp. “He sounds like a lovely pet,” she said. “And I’m sure all those big strong men in your tower will be able to keep him under control if he does go a little evil.”

Tony moved his finger and rubbed Lord Stompy in between the ears. The cat seemed to frown at the contact, his under bite more apparent than before, but didn’t attack. He even closed his eyes as Tony rubbed his head.

Dottie smiled sweetly at Tony. “Shall I go talk with the people at the front desk? I’m sure they can get everything drawn up and have him ready to go.”

Sam snorted. “I’m sure they can’t wait to see him leave,” he said, dryly.

Steve elbowed Sam.

Sam grinned.

Tony eased his hand away from Lord Stompy. He couldn’t leave the cat here; it was likely Lord Stompy would be left in a cage forever if he didn’t take him – no one else was going to take a cat that was willing to attack anyone that came near him. Sure, he’d promised Bucky that they’d talk about getting a cat at some point in the future, but Bucky wasn’t here right now. At least the cat wouldn’t be a complete stranger – Bucky had looked at the fluffball online often enough that Tony knew they might have eventually brought the cat home together. This was something he needed to do – something he could focus on and devote his time to other than work and worrying. “Ok, buddy,” he said, his voice soft. “We’re going to go sign some papers. We’ll see you in a bit.”

Lord Stompy meowed pitifully and pushed himself against the bars. He reached out at Tony with his paw, his claws flexing.

“Don’t you want to try and, oh, I don’t know. Pet him?” Steve asked.

“I like my blood inside my body,” Tony said.

“Good point,” Steve said, his gaze glued to the cat. “And you’re absolutely sure this is the cat for you?”

“Very sure,” Tony said.

Dottie took Tony by the hand. “Let’s go, dear.” She gave him a gentle pull to get him moving.

“Are you _sure_ we’re not rushing things?” Sam said, hurrying after them.

“I’m sure,” Tony said. It was irritating answering the same question fifty different ways. He was sure – and if he wasn’t, he would learn to live with the consequences. He wasn’t going to send an animal back to a shelter. If things didn’t work out, he’d find a way to make sure Lord Stompy lived out the rest of his days in the lap of luxury.

“And Bucky will be alright with this?” Sam asked.

“He’ll get over it if he isn’t,” Tony said, stiffly.

Steve chuckled. “I’m sure everything will be fine,” he said, smiling at Sam. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

 

 

“He bit three people when they tried to put him in his cardboard crate,” the woman at the front desk said, shaking her head. “That’s a new record for him.” She inched away from the desk where the box with Lord Stompy was sitting as if afraid that he might somehow manage to chew straight through the cardboard and attack her. She slid the signed adoption paperwork over to Tony. “All you need to do is pay for him and you’re good to go, Mr. Stark. Your references checked out and we’re very happy to see Lord Stompy go somewhere good.”

Tony pulled his wallet out of his pocket and pull his black card out after looking through the stack of hundreds. He tapped it on the reader and signed the receipt the woman slid him across the desk, handing it back before stuffing the wad of hundreds into the donation box. The woman’s eyes widened. “Wait – You’re _that_ Tony Stark?”

Steve grinned. “Who did you think he was?”

Tony smirked.

The woman looked abashed. “I didn’t – I didn’t expect someone like you to wander into a place like this. I mean, I’d heard you had a cat but I didn’t think you’d be looking for another one,” she said.

“This _is_ a cat, right?” Tony said, glancing down at the box.

The woman looked at Steve as if he could answer the question. “I’m sorry?”

Steve patted Tony’s arm. “It’s a cat,” he said. “It’s _definitely_ a cat this time.”

Sam nodded. “It sure _looks_ like a cat,” he said.

“Funny,” Tony drawled. “ _Bucky_ seemed a hell of a lot like a cat too.”

Steve winced. “Have I said I’m sorry about that recently? Because I’m sorry.”

Sam sighed.

Dottie cocked her head to the side. “What?”

“I’ll explain later,” Tony said, laughing nervously. He picked up the Lord Stompy’s cardboard carrier before the woman behind the desk could try and take it away and nearly dislocated his arm from the cat’s sheer weight. “Holy _hell_ ,” he said peering through the holes in the box down at the cat. “What have you been _eating_?”

“I think that question is more – what _hasn’t_ he been eating,” Sam said, frowning at the box. “I hope that cardboard holds. I do not want to be trapped in a car with _that_ cat on the loose.”

“Lord Stompy has been put on a diet,” the woman behind the desk said. “We’d appreciate it if you keep him on it – and that’s not a friendly request. He needs to drop some weight or he’ll be in for some serious health issues. You should talk about it with your vet of choice – he needs exercise as a starter and he’ll need some healthier food, too.”

“I’m sure we can figure something out,” Tony said. He hesitated as he looked down at the cardboard box where Lord Stompy was slowly circling. Which vet was he going to take his new little monster to? Melody wasn’t back yet, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to take a cat to anyone he hadn’t checked out first. “Do you have any places you recommend?” he asked. It was better to at least have a place to start. He could do his research later – the cat was healthy, and had had a check-up recently. They wouldn’t have to go in anytime soon.

The woman behind the desk smiled and pushed a stack of papers towards Tony. “It’s all included in the take-home package, Mr. Stark. Just give it a read and it’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

Steve picked up the papers and held them out to Tony. “I’ll trade you.”

“Are you sure?” Tony said. Even with Extremis, Lord Stompy was _heavy_. Maybe he was going to have to start working out again. Scratch that – he was definitely going to start running again, because he had a feeling he was going to be chased around the penthouse as soon as Lord Stompy got out of his box.

“I’m sure,” Steve said. They traded, cat carrier for papers.

Tony sighed in relief. He rubbed the feeling back into his fingers and saluted the woman behind the desk with the papers. “We’ll send you an update on how he is,” he said.

The woman beamed at him. “Alright, Mr. Stark. Please keep in touch – and please don’t bring him back unless you absolutely have to.”

Dottie slipped her arm around Tony’s waist. “So, darling, what are you doing now?”

“Well, I phoned Pepper – she’s setting the penthouse up for us and we’re heading on home after Happy gets here with our lunch,” Tony said. “Did you want to come with?” He missed having Dottie around, and it would be nice to have her wandering the penthouse complaining about things. She had a knack for making Pepper laugh; she could get Rhodey going too.

Dottie glanced over at Steve and Sam; she pursed her lips. “No, no. I wouldn’t want to interrupt.” She patted Tony’s arm and leaned closer to his ear. “And think about what I said. There’s no reason you and Bucky _can’t_ bring Mr. Blond and Beautiful over there into your lives,” she said. She winked at him. “I’m sure he’d appreciate the attention. He looks like the kind of man who might appreciate someone dropping down on their knees in front of him.”

Tony’s face went bright red. “Aunt _Dottie_!” he said, his voice cracking, scandalized.

Dottie kissed Tony on the cheek. “You know it’s true,” she said. “And Peggy would approve.”

Tony sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. I’ll send you those pictures later and we can arrange at time to go meet up – maybe get lunch or coffee like old times,” Dottie said. “Oh, and tell Pepper and Rhodey I said hello.”

Steve stood beside Tony as they watched Dottie disappear back down the hallway to the kitten room. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“No, no,” Tony said quickly. “She just gave me some advice.”

“I hope it was good,” Steve said.

“I guess I’ll find out,” Tony said, smiling crookedly up at Steve.

Sam looked between Steve and Tony and rolled his eyes. “Let’s go,” he said. “The monster probably can’t wait to get a look at his new house and I’m starving – Happy said those burgers were boiling hot when he got them and I’d like to eat them before they get cold and soggy.”

Tony grinned. “Let’s go.”

Steve put a hand in the middle of Tony’s chest, just under his arc reactor. “Hold on there,” he said. “Happy’s not here yet.”

“And you’re feeling me up because _Happy’s_ not here to see it?” Tony asked, batting his eyelashes at Steve.

Steve’s cheeks went pink. He cleared his throat, but didn’t move his hand. “I just don’t want any of us standing around outside where the press could see us.”

“Did we do something illegal?” Sam asked, glancing over at Tony. “Because I swear we just adopted a cat – we didn’t rob a bank.”

Tony scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, crumpling the papers in his hand. “I hate when you’re being logical,” he grunted, squinting at Steve. “You suck sometimes, Rogers.”

“I know,” Steve said, with a small smile. “So uh – we have some time till Happy gets here.”

“Yes, we do,” Tony said.

“How did Peggy know Dottie?” Steve asked. “She looks a little young to have been around when you were growing up. Was Peggy her mentor?”

“They met after the war, actually,” Tony said. “Peggy said they used to live in the same building.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “She _what_? She lived in the same building? Was she a little kid?”

“She and Peggy are the same age,” Tony said.

Steve frowned. “That’s – she’s aged very well,” he said with a cough. He looked over his shoulder to see if Dottie was anywhere near and then leaned closer to Tony. “So they were close?”

“Very,” Tony said. “She only had a few close friends – Angie and Dottie. Or at least, I _think_ they were both her close friends. Peggy always got real tight lipped when I asked about it. She never seemed to want to talk about Dottie.”

“That’s strange,” Sam said.

Steve blinked slowly. “What do you mean?”

Sam shrugged. “They probably had a falling out or something – that’s what old people do, right?”

“Ha, ha,” Steve said. “Very funny.”

Tony chuckled. “I don’t know about that – any time Dottie was around, Peggy was two steps behind her. I swear, those two looked like they were bungie-corded together some days.”

“Do you think Dottie’d mind if I gave her a call sometime?” Steve asked, looking sheepish. “It would be nice to talk to her about Peggy – there was so much I missed out on.”

Tony smiled sadly. “I’m sure she’d like that,” he said. “I’ll send you her number when we get home.”

Steve smiled and put a hand on Tony’s shoulder; his hand radiated warmth the way Bucky’s did.

Tony swallowed hard and looked down at the crumpled papers in his hand. “I guess a lot of things have changed today, huh?”

“Yeah,” Steve said with a heavy sigh. “They have. But we’re all here together and we’ll figure things out.”

Sam grinned. “And you’ll be bringing me the man you promised,” he said. “So don’t worry – You’ll be fine.”

Tony let out an ungodly snort and put his face in his hands. “Oh god – I’ve created a monster.”

“Don’t worry,” Steve said, patting Tony’s shoulder consolingly. “He’s always been a jerk – you didn’t make anything new. He spends a lot of time with Natasha and I think it’s warped his mind a little.”

“Hey!” Sam said, with an offended yelp. “Who’s to say _who_ warped _whom_?”

Tony leaned against Steve as he laughed; Steve leaned back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I was working on my novel a lot/working at my second job so I had a hard time finishing this chapter on time. It's a short one but hopefully it's worth it! Let me know if you spot anything weird and I'll fix it!


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Stompy explores his domain

Tony picked up his phone as they walked into his penthouse. He had received a message on the way up from the parking lot, and he hadn’t wanted to zone out while Steve and Sam were with him in the elevator in order to check it. He frowned down at the email he had received. It was another message from Bucky – one from the same untraceable email address. He opened the attached picture warily and then quickly closed it, stuffing his phone into his pocket. _Ok_. He had expected to see a picture of Bucky, but he hadn’t expected to see a picture of Bucky completely _naked_ while looking over his shoulder coyly at the camera like he was in the middle of a porn shoot. Holy _crap_. He glared down at his groin, warning it to behave itself and then did a google search in his head for seagulls – and then when that didn’t work, he looked up pictures of books in stacks. He was not going to get a boner while standing in the elevator with Steve, Sam and his new cat. Nope. That was not happening. And there was no way in hell he was leaving the elevator with a boner with _Natasha_ in his penthouse.

“Tony?” Steve said. He had Lord Stompy’s cardboard carrier between his feet and seemed more worried about Tony than the cat. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Tony said, his voice just a tad _shriller_ than he would have liked. “Fine – just fine.”

Sam snorted. He shifted the plastic bags holding their take-out along his arms and cocked an eyebrow at Tony, clearly not believing a word he said. “Barnes sent you another dirty picture, didn’t he?”

Tony scowled, very much aware that his cheeks were pinker than they should have been if nothing was in fact, actually wrong. “How the hell did you know?” he asked after a moment of sullen contemplation. He was pretty sure he had been keeping a straight face, but then again the Avengers weren’t the press and it was a lot harder to keep his _out-on-the-town_ face on when he was with them.

“Your phone buzzed and then you took one look at it and nearly tore your pants in half trying to stuff it into your pocket before we could see it,” Sam said. “ _Pretty_ sure that’s not something you normally do when you get a boring business email.”

Steve grinned. “I was thinking the same thing,” he said, bumping shoulders with Tony.

“You two are _jerks_ ,” Tony grumbled.

The elevator dinged cheerfully, announcing their arrival.

Tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t tell Pepper about the emails, alright?”

“What? You don’t want me telling her that Bucky has been sending you dirty pictures?” Sam snickered. “Yeah, like _that’s_ a conversation I want to have with Pepper Potts, girlfriend of the Black Widow, on a normal day. You don’t even need to ask. I’m not saying _shit_.”

“Thank you,” Tony said as the elevator doors opened.

Pepper frowned at them. She was immaculately dressed in a black tailored skirt, suit-jacket, and a white dress shirt. She had her red leather briefcase tucked under her arm. “What have you two been up to?” she asked. She pressed a kiss to Natasha’s cheek and shooed the out of the elevator. “You know what? No. Don’t tell me now. Tell me later – I’ve got to go down to the office before it starts filling up with dust.”

“Emergency meeting?” Tony asked. “Wait – you set up the apartment and now you’re going to work? Should I go get dressed in my fancy clothes too?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Pepper said, kissing Tony on the cheek. Her lips were painted crimson and she looked like she was ready to kill people with just the sharp lines of her eyeliner. She glanced down at the cardboard box in Steve’s hand. “I’ll see you later, _mister_ ,” she said to the cat, cooing. “I made sure you have some very nice pillows to sleep on if you’re interested.”

Lord Stompy let out a meow that sound damn near _happy_ and stuck his face up against the holes in the side of the box closest to Pepper as if trying to take a good look at her.

Pepper chuckled. “Take me down to my office, Jarvis,” she said.

“You’ll be back for dinner, right?” Natasha said, stopping the door before it could close.

Pepper sighed and pushed a strand of hair back behind her ears. “I hope so, but don’t wait up for me,” she said.

Natasha nodded and stepped back to let the doors close. She turned around, her hands on her hips and pursed her lips in displeasure.

Tony grimaced. “Sorry – I mean, I didn’t know she was going in to work today. I’d have told her to stay at home if it meant she could stick around here with you.”

Natasha shrugged. “It happens. It’s not like I don’t do the same thing when duty calls,” she said. She approached the cardboard box slowly and knelt down in front of it, peeking in through the holes in the cardboard. “So this is your cat, huh?”

“Yep,” Tony said. “Is everything set up?”

“As much as it can be,” Natasha said. “Happy isn’t with you?”

“He said he was going to park the car and then head home,” Tony said.

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly how _mean_ is this cat?”

Tony grinned sheepishly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Happy Hogan ran away from free food,” Natasha said, flatly. “You must have adopted satan in fur.”

Sam smirked. “You’re not wrong,” he said.

“Lord Stompy isn’t _satan_ ,” Tony said with a grumble. “He’s just cranky because he’s been stuck in a cage for almost a year. You’d be pretty cranky too if it was you in there.”

“True,” Sam said. He cleared his throat. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take our food into the kitchen and put it somewhere safe.” He carried the bags over to the table, set them down and then hopped up onto it, sitting there with his legs crossed. “Feel free to release the cat now.”

Steve let out a barked laugh and set the cardboard carrier down. “You _really_ think you need to be up there?”

“I’m not taking any chances,” Sam said, primly. “I value my limbs and we all know cats like to eat birds.”

“Lord Stompy probably can’t jump,” Steve said, rolling his eyes at Sam. “He’s only got three legs and one of them isn’t fully functional. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“I trust _nothing_ ,” Sam said. He patted the table beside him and locked eyes with Natasha. “Plenty of space for you too, spider-lady.”

Natasha smirked and hopped up onto the table, making herself comfortable with her legs tucked under her.

Steve sighed wearily. “You two are incorrigible.” He looked over at Tony. “Shall we free your new friend?”

“Sure,” Tony said with a drawl. He wasn’t going to admit it, but he kind of wanted to crawl up on the table too.

“Do you want to do the honors, or should I?” Steve asked.

Tony grinned and knelt down beside the box. He watched the cardboard sway as Lord Stompy circled inside and gnawed on his lower lip. He didn’t think the cat was likely to leap out and try and murder him right then and there, but it was a possibility. Still, despite his fear he knew that he didn’t want to be the one to force Steve into getting a face-full of homicidal cat; that would be cruel, and Pepper would never let him live it down. “I’ll do it,” he said. He took in a deep breath to steady himself and then carefully pushed the lid down and out, letting the cardboard open like a delicate flower in bloom. He moved back from the box on his heels, not wanting to crowd the cat and waved for Steve to do the same. For a good five minutes, nothing happened. Lord Stompy remained in his box, ducked down, not lifting his head above the cardboard flaps. Then, when everyone had given up watching the box and was getting ready to go sit in the living room, Lord Stompy leapt out of the box like a salmon trying to scale a waterfall and ran for the nearest couch, diving underneath with a loud, piercing _hiss_.

Sam whistled lowly. “And _you_ said I had nothing to worry about,” he said. “He damn near jumped over your head, Stark.”

Tony tipped his head back with a groan. It stung to see Lord Stompy take the exact same route Bucky had taken, back when Bucky was still a cat, but at the same time, it made him smile to see that the cat was taking the smart route. There were worse ways to introduce a cat to a new space. At least no one had been attacked or tripped. “It’s fine, Sam. He’s not going to attack anyone – he’s just hiding. I’m sure he’ll come out eventually,” he reasoned.

“To terrorize the villagers,” Sam said.

“He’s a cat,” Tony said. He stood up, trying to ignore the way his ass had fallen asleep while waiting for Lord Stompy to finally move, and went over to the kitchen table, throwing himself into a chair.

“There’s food out for him,” Natasha said with a shrug. “I’m sure he’ll find his way out from under the couch once his stomach starts growling.”

Tony smiled. “ _Exactly_ ,” he said. “Now, are you two going to get down from there or what?”

“I’m fine where I am,” Sam said, looking over at Natasha.

Natasha shrugged. “I’m fine where I am too,” she said.

Steve sat down in the chair beside Tony and pulled the first of their bags away from Sam. He took the paper bags out and sorted through them, humming to himself.

Tony’s back pocket vibrated. He squinted at the paper bag in front of him and pulled up his emails in his head with Extremis, not wanting anyone to know what he was doing. There, in his inbox was a new message from Bucky that read ‘Did you get my messages?’. Tony was tempted to ignore the email, furious that Bucky was sending him something so inane, but he couldn’t. He grimaced and used Jarvis’ cameras to take a picture of the cardboard box Lord Stompy had come flying out of, and attached it to his responding email. He didn’t write anything; he sent the email and unwrapped his burger, taking a vicious bite out of it. Bucky could come home if he wanted to know what the box meant – if he couldn’t figure it out on his own.

Steve glanced over at Tony. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Tony said. “Just sent Bucky an email.”

“He wanted to know something?” Steve asked.

“He wanted to know if I was getting _his_ emails,” Tony said.

“I see,” Steve said. “What did you send him, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I sent him a picture of Lord Stompy’s box,” Tony said with a sharp grin.

“That’s both cruel _and_ entertaining,” Sam said, nibbling on his fries.

“Agreed,” Natasha said. “Well _done_ , Stark.”

Tony chuckled and bit into his burger again, this time with relish. If Bucky thought sending naked pictures was the way to get him talking, he had another thing coming.

 

 

Tony fell asleep on the couch after lunch and woke to Lord Stompy purring in his face like a furry chainsaw. He stayed still, wondering what the cat would do if he moved and was promptly bitten on the nose. It wasn’t a rough bite – more of a nip, really – but it still sent him flinching over onto his side with Lord Stompy clutched against him. The cat growled when he realized he was trapped in Tony’s arms and then let out the most _godawful_ fart Tony had ever been witness to and ran away. His eyes watering from the smell and the bite, Tony sat up and looked around for his sulfur-eating cat. He locked eyes with Steve, who was sitting on the chair across from him and scowled indignantly. Steve looked like he was about ten seconds away from busting a gut; he had curled himself up in the chair so his feet weren’t touching the ground. It should have been impossible for him to make his bulky body so small, but he had done it somehow. Perhaps fear was a good motivator.

“Laugh it up, jackass,” Tony said, rubbing his nose.

“You’re the fifth person he’s bitten,” Steve supplied. “You’re the first one he’s farted on.”

“Great,” Tony said with a grimace. “A new record. Yay!”

“They said he needed to be put on a diet,” Steve said with a grin. “His papers say he’s very… _odorful_ because of his digestion issues.”

“ _Fantastic_ ,” Tony said. He heaved himself upright. “So I now own a bitey, flatulent monster-cat that seems to be able to move at the speed of light.”

“The upside is you can now blame any accidental or intentional farts on your bitey, flatulent monster-cat,” Steve said, cheerfully.

Tony nearly choked on his own spit. He slapped at his chest, his eyes watering and coughed as he laughed. That wasn’t the kind of thing he had expected _Steve_ to say – not in a million years. Clint – yes – Steve – no. He cleared his throat, squinting though watery eyes at Steve and grinned. “That’s horrible,” he said.

“Natasha did it earlier,” Steve said with a crooked grin.

Tony nearly choked to death on his own spit again.

“She thinks she fooled us all,” Steve said, leaning back in his chair. He tapped the side of his nose. “But super soldier senses don’t lie.”

Tony wiped at his eyes. “Does _she_ know that?”

“Probably,” Steve said. “She’s got a filthy sense of humor when she’s in the right mood. She’s the one who introduced me to the whole ‘pull my finger’ thing.”

Tony cackled and slapped his knee. “Seriously? I could have sworn that was Clint.”

“No, that was all Natasha’s fault,” Steve said. “Just be glad you haven’t been near her when she’s drunk.”

“What does she do _then_?” Tony asked, leaning forwards.

“She draws dicks on things,” Steve said. “On _anything_. I swear, she’s done it on eight different people while they were sleeping and that’s just the times I know about.”

Tony squinted at Steve. “ _Seriously_?”

“When she’s drunk she thinks it’s hilarious,” Steve said with a shrug.

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Tony said.

Natasha appeared from behind Steve’s chair, rising above the edge; she must have been sitting behind it the entire time, waiting. She smiled at Tony, the expression eerie and more than a little frightening. “Are you spilling my _secrets_ , Steve?”

“Since when was it a _secret_?” Steve said, cocking an eyebrow. “I _distinctly_ remember you drawing a dick on Rumlow’s face when we all went out together and you guys decided to get a nightcap – and that was _before_ we realized he was working for Hydra.”

Natasha scowled. “I wasn’t drunk then,” she said. “I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Steve let out a snort. “You did it when you were _sober_?”

Natasha smiled and disappeared back behind Steve’s chair. “Was I sober? Or was I drunk? Now you’ll never know.”

Tony smiled so hard it hurt. He hadn’t felt this good since Bucky had left. He felt guilty for being happy and then told his guilt to go fuck itself; Bucky had left and made his own decisions – it wasn’t him who had chased Bucky off and it wasn’t him who would bring Bucky back. Bucky would come back on his own when the time was right.

Lord Stompy jumped up onto the couch with a loud, wailed, meow and landed on Tony’s lap. Gasping for breath, his balls crushed under Lord Stompy’s bowling-ball body, Tony wheezed and tried to keep from blacking out.

Steve moved to get up and then stopped when Stompy began circling on Tony’s lap. He held his breathe, as if breathing might scare the cat away.

Tony watched Lord Stompy through watery eyes. He relaxed only when Lord Stompy had made himself at home on his lap and even then the only move he made was to shift his left leg so Lord Stompy’s cast wasn’t jabbing him in the groin again.

“So,” Natasha said, reappearing behind Steve’s chair. She draped herself over the back of it, her head cocked to the side. “I think he likes you, Stark.”

“I hope so,” Tony said, looking down at the purring cat. “Because if he doesn’t, I’m not sure what to think about this.”

“Well,” Sam called out from where he was lying on the kitchen table, “He’s bitten Nat twice for no reason, Steve once because he sneezed and Lord Stompy didn’t like the look of him, and he’s bitten me once because I happened to let my foot touch the ground. I’d say he likes you – he didn’t draw _blood_ with you.”

Tony winced. “He drew blood?”

“Don’t worry,” Steve said. “I heal fast.”

“Same here,” Natasha said, cheerfully.

“I will never _forgive_ your cat, Tony,” Sam declared. “My toes still hurts.”

Natasha chuckled. “Big _baby_.”

“You say that now, but wait till he bites _your_ damn toes,” Sam grumbled.

“He bit my wrist,” Natasha said with a snort. “And he sank his teeth in. Your toes were _barely_ bleeding.”

“Barely?” Sam said, lifting his head in outrage. “Barely? I had to hold a paper towel to my foot for a good five minutes before it stopped!”

“How the hell did I sleep through all of this?” Tony said, his eyes wide in horror.

“I have no idea,” Steve said, smiling softly at Tony. “But really – it was fine. We’re all fine. Lord Stompy’s a – _great_ – cat.”

“He’ll make quite the guard-cat,” Natasha said. “I think he thinks he’s a lion, or something else big and hairy. If he had all of his legs he would be quite the terror.” She pursed her lips as she watched Lord Stompy purr and nuzzle Tony’s stomach. “How is it that you’ve managed to win him over without doing anything?”

“I guess he can sense my fabulous personality,” Tony said with a shrug.

Lord Stompy nuzzled Tony’s stomach again and then let out a long, trumpeted fart.

Tony shuddered and grimaced. “Oh god. Why does he like _me_?”

Natasha wrinkled her nose. “Glad it’s you and not me,” she said.

“Me too,” Sam said. “Oh fuck, I can smell that from over here. Shit, cat – what’s wrong with you?”

Tony locked eyes with Steve, who looked close to passing out from the pain of not letting himself laugh. “Super soldier senses aren’t the best thing to have right now, huh?”

Steve put his hand over his mouth and nose. “I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.”

 

 

Lord Stompy disappeared around midnight after chasing Natasha, Sam and Steve to the elevator. Tony looked all over the penthouse, but couldn’t find the little bastard until he accessed the security cameras. Natasha was right. The cat was starting to look like a fantastic guard-cat – assuming, of course, he learned to stop attacking the people Tony liked to have around. He left the guest bathroom door open, where the litter box sat waiting, and told Jarvis to take notes on any and all behavior Lord Stompy exhibited while he was asleep. This was yet another cat that would likely have rules, and he wasn’t going to waste time figuring them out. After a moment’s hesitation, he left the bedroom door open and went to sleep.

He woke with a start, flashes of Bucky being forcibly strapped to The Chair playing on repeat in his head and found himself sobbing out screams in the dark. He clutched at his sheets, gasping for breath and buried his face in his pillow to muffle the sound, afraid that someone might hear him even though he knew his floor was sound-proofed enough to keep people from hearing the Hulk stomping around. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, shuddering, but when he lifted his head he saw that at some point, Lord Stompy had crawled onto the bed with him and was now gently kneading his stomach with his one good front paw. Tony sniffled and reached out without thinking, stroking the cat’s head. Lord Stompy moved so fast, he was almost more blur than cat. He gnawed on Tony’s hand, but didn’t bite down and once he seemed satisfied that he had gotten his point across, he rubbed his face all over Tony’s fingers, all the while purring loudly in greeting.

Tony let out a sniffle. “It was a dream,” he said, addressing the cat. “Just a dream. Bucky’s fine – he’s _fine_. The Chair’s not around anymore – Hydra doesn’t have the blueprints and there’s no way Bucky would get himself trapped like that.” He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the obvious lie. Lord Stompy wouldn’t know the difference but he had no way of knowing for sure if Hydra had a Chair around somewhere in hiding. There were plenty of places Hydra had been, plenty of places that had remained hidden. He had destroyed one Chair, yes, but that didn’t mean all of them were gone. He swallowed down a mouthful of bile and used Extremis to pull up his emails. There, blinking like a lifesaver in the ocean, was an email from Bucky. He opened it, settling back down onto his pillow and bit back a nervous laugh. This wasn’t a dirty picture like he had expected. It was simply a picture of Bucky pouting, Bucky’s lower lip impossibly shiny. As with all the pictures, there was no way to know where Bucky was when it had been taken, but this one was recent – this wasn’t a picture Bucky had stockpiled and set on a queue to send off to him. This was a picture that had developed on its own, a reaction to the picture Tony had taken of Lord Stompy’s cardboard box. He smiled at Bucky’s pouting face, saving it to his private server so he could show Steve later. “Jarvis?” Tony said, his voice gravely.

“Yes, sir?” Jarvis said.

“Take pictures of me and Lord Stompy, will you?” Tony said. “And make sure they’re cute.”

“Done, sir,” Jarvis said a few minutes later.

Tony let out a loud snore.

Jarvis sighed. “I suppose I will have to take the liberty of picking the best ones and sending them to Mr. Barnes,” he said.

Lord Stompy stuck his back foot in Tony’s face; Tony snored louder.

 

 

Tony woke with a groan as email notifications pinged in his head. He didn’t open his eyes; he simply dived directly into the email with Extremis and began searching through what had arrived. He frowned. There were five different emails from Bucky, all of them replies to an email he hadn’t actually gotten around to sending the night before. He opened the email he had ‘sent’ and saw that it was filled with pictures of him and Lord Stompy, each one cuter than the last. Jarvis might not be a human, but he had a real knack for picking out good pictures.

“I sent the pictures on your behalf, “Jarvis said, clearing his throat. “I hope I haven’t overstepped, sir.”

Tony let out a choked laugh. Bucky’s first response to the email Jarvis had sent was a new pouty picture of Bucky, this time with his face even closer to the camera. The second response was a frowny face. The third was a sad face. The fourth was an even sadder face. The fifth was a picture of Bucky scowling.

“You didn’t overstep,” Tony said. “Don’t worry.” He saved all of the pictures Bucky had sent and then opened his eyes, ready to get up and start the day. He was not alone. Lord Stompy snorted in Tony’s face, mere inches away from Tony’s nose, his breath _rank_. Tony froze. He wanted to sneeze more than anything, or perhaps recoil in horror so his eyes could water in peace somewhere safe but moving now seemed like it would lead to him getting bitten or possibly scratched. He was going to have to start sleeping in safety goggles at this rate.

Lord Stompy sighed in Tony’s face, his breath hot and wet. He reached out with his front paw, patting Tony’s cheek and then turned around and, to Tony’s complete horror, showed Tony his ass before hopping off the bed like a dainty flower.

Tony groaned in despair. “Oh god _why_?”

“I believe Lord Stompy is hungry, sir,” Jarvis said, sounding amused.

“If that’s how he shows he’s hungry, I’m never going to leave his dish empty again,” Tony said. He struggle upright and staggered out into the penthouse, trailing along behind Lord Stompy.

Sam looked up from his spot on the kitchen table beside Natasha. “Morning, Stark.”

Steve gave Tony a nod from the chair he had curled up in and let loose a jaw-cracking yawn. “Good morning!”

Tony grunted at Steve and followed Lord Stompy into the kitchen, wondering just what the hell he had walked in on. How _late_ in the day was it? Had he slept through the morning? He checked Extremis’ internal clock and saw that, to his horror, it was only _seven thirty in the morning_. He hadn’t slept in at all – in fact, he was awake far too early. “Why are you three here already?” he moaned.

Lord Stompy let out a meow and sat down in front of his food dish. He looked up at Tony, baring his teeth and then sneezed on Tony’s bare foot when Tony got closer.

“We finished our runs and decided to come up here and see what the hellbeast was up to,” Natasha said.

Tony pursed his lips as Lord Stompy looked over at his food dish and then up at him. He could bend down and pick up the dish, reusing it considering it looked like it had been licked clean, but that would mean put his hand far too close to Lord Stompy’s teeth. He took the cowards way out; he got a new bowl, filled it up and then eased it down towards the floor beside him instead of onto the mat Lord Stompy was sitting beside. Then, when Lord Stompy was distracted, he ran for the living room and dove onto the couch.

Sam let out a cackled laugh. “Smart,” he said.

Natasha smirked. “You’re so much faster when you’re afraid you’ll lose a toe,” she said. “ _Interesting_.”

Steve laughed. “Don’t be so mean – I saw you two jump up onto that table the minute you got into the kitchen. He’s not the only one afraid of that cat.”

“I’m not _afraid_ ,” Tony said, with a huff. He sat up and promptly tucked his toes underneath his butt so he could keep them safe. “I’m just being proactive.” He glanced over at Natasha. “Where’s Pepper?”

“She’s working,” Natasha said with a tired smile. “I tried to get her to stay home but she was pretty adamant she had to get back to work before someone started accusing her of being a half-assed CEO.”

Tony scowled. He wouldn’t have been surprised if some asshole on the board had said something in those exact words; people could be real jerks sometimes, especially when said jerks had money invested in the company. He should probably get back to work as well. He had been out of the office and out of his workshop for far too long and there were things that needed to be finished. He had moped around long enough. It was time to get serious again. He had searches running he needed to check on, meetings he needed to plan for and things he needed to reschedule before he made an even bigger disaster Pepper would feel obligated to clean up. Gritting his teeth, he stood up and headed back into his bedroom to get dressed.

 

 

The afternoon ended faster than he had expected. By the time he looked up from the stack of papers on Pepper’s desk, perched precariously on the corner he had stolen when he had slipped into her office, he was tired, hungry and ready to just pitch the whole pile out the window.

Pepper scowled down at her paperwork, clearly thinking the same thing. “I think we’ve done enough for tonight,” she said.

“Agreed,” Tony muttered. He pushed his pile of paperwork away with a groan and rested his face on his arms. Jarvis had been sending him updates on Lord Stompy all day and it had been hard to keep working with some of the pictures that had been sent his way. There were pictures of Clint being chased around the penthouse; pictures of Thor laughing as Lord Stompy tried to drag Mjolnir off by the handle and lastly there were pictures of Bucky trying to get Tony to respond to the emails he had sent earlier in the day, each one more pleading and sad than the rest. Tony _almost_ felt bad.

Pepper patted Tony’s shoulder. “Let’s head upstairs,” she said. “We can pretend the paperwork is invisible until tomorrow.”

Tony grinned. “Good plan,” he said. He staggered out of Pepper’s office behind her, holding her hand and collapsed against the elevator as it rose to the penthouse. Pepper kicked off her heels the moment the door opened and slid them towards the pile of shoes by the front closet.

The penthouse was silent.

Tony went up on the tips of his toes to see if someone was in the living room and nearly inhaled his tongue when he saw what was going on in between the coffee table and the couch. Steve was lying on the floor on his belly, still as a stone. Lord Stompy was sitting on Steve’s back, his tail resting between Steve’s broad shoulders, and he was delicately kneading Steve’s ass with his one good paw.

Pepper frowned at Tony, confused. “Are you alright?”

Tony wheezed and pointed with a shaking hand towards the living room. “Jarvis?” he croaked. “You’re filming this, right?”

“I started the moment Lord Stompy ascended his impromptu throne,” Jarvis said. “He has been there for approximately twenty minutes now.”

Tony snorted into his arm and crept closer with Pepper at his side. They approached slowly from the side of the couch Lord Stompy was facing and stared at the cat in awe.

Lord Stompy let out a loud trilled meow of greeting when he saw Tony and did a slow circle on Steve’s back before settling with his chin resting on Steve’s left butt-cheek. He purred loudly, digging his claws into the meat of Steve’s ass and continued to knead at him as though trying to make himself more comfortable.

Steve let out a pained whimper.

“You ok over there?” Tony said, hovering with Pepper beside the couch.

“He won’t get _off_ ,” Steve said his voice half-whine, half-whisper. “I tripped over Sam when we were trying to get back onto the couch and ended up down here – and now he won’t _leave_.”

“I don’t blame him,” Tony said, grinning at Pepper. He waggled his eyebrows. “Lucky guy.”

Pepper smirked back. “Where did Sam and Natasha go?” she asked. “I’m surprised they’re not here watching this.”

“Sam and Natasha made a break for the door after Lord Stompy made himself at home,” Steve said, casually, as if that was what always happened to him in the afternoon. “Oh god – his claws are so sharp! How are his claws this sharp?”

“Clint left too?” Tony asked.

“Clint ran away after his last attempt at winning Lord Stompy over to his side,” Steve said. “He jumped on Thor and asked to be carried out of the Tower. Thor flew off after he was promised lunch and an explanation as to what the hell had just happened.”

“That seems a little extreme, even for him,” Tony said.

“He rubbed himself down with _catnip_ ,” Steve said with a sigh. He grimaced. “Ow. Ow. Ow. Why am I being punished? What did I do?”

Pepper leaned heavily against the arm of the couch. “Clint rubbed himself with _catnip_?” She let out a snort so loud, it made Lord Stompy look up at her. “He does know that that stuff makes cats crazy, right? I’m assuming Lord Stompy tried to eat him?”

“Several times,” Steve said. “And he kept trying to get at him even after Clint locked himself in the bathroom and took a shower.”

Tony winced. Leave it to Clint to think of the one crazy idea that _might_ have worked if Lord Stompy wasn’t so fond of trying to eat people.

Pepper’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and scrolled through her messages, smiling softly.

“Natasha?” Tony asked.

“She and Sam are bringing dinner,” Pepper said. “They’re asking if it’s safe to come upstairs.”

“Send her a picture of Steve,” Tony said, grinning.

Pepper smiled back. “I did that a few minutes ago,” she said. “Natasha seems to think the cat’s got the best seat in the house.”

Steve groaned in despair into the floor.

 

 

 

Natasha and Sam brought copious amounts of Italian food back with them when they returned. They plated everything in the kitchen after seeing that Lord Stompy was napping contentedly on Steve’s ass, and then ate while Steve grumbled into the floor.

When Tony had finished eating, he walked over to Lord Stompy’s refilled plate and gave it a tap, hoping that would draw the cat over.

“Tony?” Steve’s voice was high-pitched.

“Yep?” Tony said, jerking away from the cat bowl as if he had been burned.

“What did you just do?” Steve asked.

“I tapped Lord Stompy’s bowl,” Tony said.

“ _Don’t_ do that again,” Steve said.

“What happened?”

“He bit me,” Steve said.

Tony exchanged a grin with Natasha. “I was trying to call him over for dinner – that was not even _close_ to what I was thinking he’d do.”

“Maybe bring something over for him to smell?” Steve said, his tone weary yet hopeful. “He’s getting heavy.”

Tony chuckled. Steve was full of shit; a cat Lord Stompy’s size wasn’t nearly heavy enough to cause the super soldier any pain. He loaded a pile of Alfredo smothered chicken onto a plate and carried it over to Steve. He watched Lord Stompy for signs of interest and then when the cat didn’t so much as bat an eye at the food, set it down on the carpet a few feet away from Steve to see if that would tempt the little jerk away.

Steve grunted and licked his lips as he tried to shift his body so Lord Stompy might get the hint and move. “Is that alfredo?”

“Yep,” Tony said. “You hungry, big guy?”

“Very,” Steve said. He sighed wearily and rested his head back on the floor. “He’s too comfy to move.”

“And you’re too _considerate_ to move him,” Tony said with a smile. He sat down on the couch across from Steve and tucked his feet under him. “You’re such a _sweetheart_ , Cap.”

Steve’s ears went pink. “I am not.”

Natasha cleared her throat. “Pepper and I are going to head back to her room now,” she said. She glared at Sam when he got up and followed them to the elevator. “You’re _not_ invited.”

“I know,” Sam said, with a snort, rolling his eyes. “You couldn’t pay me to follow you to your place. I’m just not sticking around here to see where Lord Stompy decides to go after he leaves his _throne_.” He hurried into the elevator, putting Natasha and Pepper in front of him.

Natasha and Pepper linked hands and smiled at one another. “You ready for bed?” Pepper asked.

“Very much so,” Natasha said. “See you later, Stark. Good luck, Steve.”

“Good night Tony,” Pepper called out. “Paperwork starts at ten am tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there,” Tony said, grinning at Pepper. “You want to eat breakfast up here?”

“We’ll see,” Natasha said.

Pepper laughed and leaned against Natasha.

The elevator doors closed.

Steve sighed morosely into the floor again.

“He really likes you,” Tony said, watching Lord Stompy. The cat was snoring and even the smell of good food apparently wasn’t enough to wake him.

“He likes using me as a cushion,” Steve said, dryly. “I don’t think that means he likes me.”

“Very true. He hasn’t farted on you yet – when he does, we’ll know for sure,” Tony said, clearing his throat. For the time being, he was trapped with Steve; it was too awkward to simply wander off and leave the super soldier to his fate, so he was going to have to offer some small talk – until Lord Stompy got up. “Uh – did you want to see some of the pictures Bucky sent me?”

Steve perked up, lifting his head off of the floor. “Sure,” he said.

Tony patted at the couch and pulled his Stark Pad from between the cushions. He wiped at it, clearing away some of the debris that had collected there and reminded himself to bring out the vacuum when he could find the time. He opened up the folder he had been saving Bucky’s pictures in and then got up and set the tablet down in front of Steve so the super soldier could scroll through them at his liesure. It was only as Steve was gleefully looking at the pictures of Bucky pouting that Tony realized that there was more than just a few reaction pictures in that particular folder. He tried to dive in with Extremis to yank the pictures out but it was too late – Steve was staring wide-eyed at the picture of Bucky looking coyly into the camera. His ears looked like they were about to burst into flames.

Tony laughed nervously and scratched at the back of his head. “Uh – _oops_?”

Steve cleared his throat and scrolled to the next picture – one that was infinitely filthier than the last had been. He coughed and pushed the tablet away. “Don’t worry – it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Tony laughed and then frowned, eyebrows drawn together. “What?”

“You know,” Steve said quickly. “We didn’t have a lot of privacy during the war – it’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked too.”

Tony gaped at Steve. He hadn’t exactly thought about the war being that close and personal but he sure as hell was now. Part of him had always assumed that Captain America had had more privacy than the rest of the Howling Commandos. Realistically, he thought with a heavy sigh, he should have known that Steve wouldn’t let himself have privacy if no one else did.

“Boy, your cat sure is heavy,” Steve said quickly, flashing Tony a nervous smile.

Tony smiled weakly back. “He sure is,” he said.

They stared at each other in silence for a minute, smiling at each other, unsure of what to say now that they had run out of pictures to peruse. Lord Stompy solved their problem by giving Steve’s butt cheek another rough knead and getting up. The cat wandered over to the plate of chicken, stretching the entire time, and began eating.

Steve sat up with a groan, rubbing at his back. “Remind me never to lie down on the floor on purpose,” he said.

Tony chuckled and stood up. “I’m pretty sure no one is going to be on that floor with Lord Stompy around ever again,” he said. He held his hand out to help Steve up and toppled over when Steve’s bulk got the better of him. Steve must not have expected him to fall, because instead of catching him, they both ended up on the floor, Steve on his back and Tony on top of him, his knees between Steve’s. Tony sighed into Steve’s muscled chest when he realized just how familiar it felt. Stupid super soldiers and their muscular chests.

“Sorry,” Steve said.

“Me too,” Tony said.

“Don’t worry,” Steve said, laughing weakly. “This happened all the time with me and Bucky too. Nothing new here.”

Tony lifted himself up on his elbows and looked down at Steve. “You two fell on top of each other a lot, huh?”

“Well,” Steve said, not meeting Tony’s gaze.

“Steve,” Tony said, staring down at Steve. “Ok – look. Normally I wouldn’t tempt fate by poking at it but I need to ask you something and I want you to answer honestly.”

Steve sighed. “Alright.”

“Did something – did something happen between you and Bucky?” Tony asked. He gritted his teeth and steeled himself for the answer, not sure he wanted to know now that the words had left his mouth. He had been wondering for a long time if Steve and Bucky had been more than just friends, but now it felt like it was more truth than dream.

Steve smiled grimly. “It was a long time ago,” he said.

Tony swallowed painfully. Steve and Bucky had been _together_? When? How? Why hadn’t they said something?

“It started back before the serum,” Steve said, quickly, this time catching Tony’s eye. “We didn’t tell anyone. It was too dangerous, even if our friends were fine with it, and by the time the war came around we’d broken up and gotten back together again a half dozen times.”

“When did it end?” Tony asked, his breath catching in his throat.

“Bucky died,” Steve said.

Tony wanted to run. He wanted to get up and make a break for the elevator, but his damn knees felt like they were made out of gelatin and the rest of his body seemed hopelessly stuck in position. He swallowed hard again, swallowed _painfully_ hard and had to blink back tears that he hoped to fuck Steve wouldn’t notice.

Steve’s expression went carefully neutral. “Look – It was all a long time ago, Tony. It was an on and off again relationship for a _reason_. We loved each other, but it always – it always felt like something was missing between us.”

“Bucky never mentioned any of this,” Tony managed to get out, almost too stunned to speak. Had Steve and Bucky talked about their relationship lately? Or was this yet another thing that hadn’t come back to Bucky yet? Tony took in a sharp breath and forced himself to move until he wasn’t lying on Steve anymore. Steve’s heartbeat had been too steady – too calm – and he couldn’t take it; it was too easy to tell that _he_ was close to panicking, and he didn’t want to have Steve asking questions, not now.

Steve sat up quickly, following Tony. “It’s fine – really.”

“Does he remember?” Tony asked, rocking back on his knees.

Steve pursed his lips. “We didn’t talk about it _directly_ ,” he admitted, “but I asked him if he remembered anything we should talk about and he said no.” He shrugged, resting his elbows on his knees. “I think he remembers fragments, but he doesn’t seem to want to talk about it.”

Tony licked his dry lips. He felt guilty for the brief flash of relief at knowing that Bucky hadn’t said anything and then leaned back against the couch, looking down at his feet. Bucky not talking about it didn’t mean he _wouldn’t_ remember one day. Where would that leave their relationship then? Compared to Captain America, _Tony Stark_ wasn’t all that great a catch. He wasn’t so sure he would pick himself if given the option – why would Bucky go with someone like _him_ when he had someone like Steve waiting on him?

Steve put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I’m not going to get in your way,” he said, firmly. “Believe me, Tony. I want you and Bucky to be happy and I’m not going to do something to make it awkward – I shouldn’t have even said anything to begin with.” He hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

Tony continued to stare down at his hands. “I don’t know what to say to that,” he said.

“Tony,” Steve said. “I won’t get in your way. I want you to be _happy_. And I want Bucky to be happy too and he is – he’s so much happier with you than he was when he was with me.” He sighed. “It was years ago. I’ve made my peace with it.” His stomach rumbled angrily and he scowled down at it.

“You should get something to eat,” Tony said, numbly.

Steve hesitated and then stood up. “Alright,” he said. “You’ll stay here, right?”

“Alright,” Tony mumbled. He heard Steve rummaging around in the kitchen, but didn’t look up. He couldn’t help feeling like someone was trying to sit on him, like he was one step away from crashing into the floor. The worst part was, he wanted Bucky to come back and hold him, but Bucky wasn’t nearby. He wanted Bucky. But Bucky might not want him. Bucky might not want him at all once his memories came back. He was used to being alone, but after being with Bucky it would be like rubbing himself down with sandpaper every day. He wasn’t sure he could handle being in the same room with them if they left him. If Bucky left him. He let out a bitter laugh. They? It wasn’t like he was dating Steve too. Shit. He hadn’t had nearly enough sleep for this kind of a conversation.

Steve sat down on the floor beside Tony his plate piled high with a little bit of everything Natasha and Sam had brought home; he chewed slowly and thoroughly, as though it was a mission he was forcing himself through.

Tony fiddled with the edge of his shirt. “I don’t think we should make any decisions,” he said, finally.

Steve swallowed the mouthful he had been chewing with a wince. “Sorry?”

“I’m scared shitless,” Tony said. He smiled sheepishly at Steve, finally looking up. “I don’t want to lose him, but I think this is something we need to talk out.”

Steve frowned. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he said.

“That’s for Bucky to decide,” Tony said. He smiled tiredly at Steve. “We can leave it until he’s back. There’s no rush.”

“Tony,” Steve said, his voice soft.

“We’ll leave it,” Tony repeated. “It’s not important right now. It’s a future, a _possible_ future, and right now he doesn’t need to think about us. He needs to focus on doing whatever it is he’s doing so he can come back home.”

Steve nodded. “Alright,” he said. He went back to his food, stabbing methodically at the plate until every last scrap was gone. He set the plate down when he was done and froze as Lord Stompy walked across his lap and sat down on Tony. The cat purred loudly and arranged himself with his rear on Steve and his head on Tony.

“Sir?” Jarvis said.

“Yeah?” Tony said, his voice a whisper, leaning back against the couch.

“Shall I take a picture and send it to Mr. Barnes?” Jarvis asked.

Tony looked over at Steve. “What do you think? Should we torment him some more?” He smiled again, trying to for playful.

Steve wrapped his arm around Tony’s shoulder, reeling him in. He tucked Tony against him. “Sure,” he said. “I’m sure he’d like that.”

“Done, sirs,” Jarvis said. “Shall I send the picture immediately?”

“Go ahead,” Tony said. He closed his eyes. Steve was warmer than Bucky. It was strange; he hadn’t really been this close to Steve before. It was nice. Maybe being alone wouldn’t be so bad if he could sit like this with Steve and Bucky every once in a while.

“Tony?” Steve murmured.

Tony grunted a response that likely wasn’t nearly as coherent as he thought it was.

“It’s ok, you know. He’ll pick you,” Steve said. He held onto to Tony a little tighter, as if afraid loosening his grip would send Tony away somehow. “I’d pick you too.”

Lord Stompy stretched out, kicking Steve in the thigh with his cast-clad leg. He yawned and closed his eyes again after glaring at Steve for speaking.

“Tony?” Steve murmured again.

Tony snored loudly, oblivious.

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'Challa was an unexpected visitor, but a very welcome one. Tony was pretty sure he was there to see Lord Stompy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for violence/fighting/blood

Tony stumbled into the kitchen, dazed and half-conscious with Lord Stompy and Steve trailing along behind him. He scooped Lord Stompy a plate of mushy food as the cat hobbled around doing drunken figure eights between his legs, ramming his furry head against Tony every few steps. Sighing in despair at having to be awake so early, Tony set the plate down before staggering over to the kitchen table to collapse while he waited for the coffee machine to finish percolating. Some asshole – _Clint_ – had drained it dry and there was nothing left for him to sip.

“T’Challa?” Steve said as he reappeared from being hunched over in Tony’s fridge. “What are you doing here?”

Tony lifted his head, confused. Was he still asleep? How had the King of Wakanda made it into his penthouse without making a sound – oh. So that was where the coffee had gone. Clint could be excused – for now.

T’Challa chuckled, amused by what he saw. He patted Tony on the shoulder and set a full mug of coffee down in front of him. He was dressed all in black and had rolled up the dress shirt’s sleeves up to his elbows; his socks were black as well, and had picked up damn near every last cat hair in the penthouse by the looks of them. T’Challa smiled down at Tony, seemingly amused by his sleep-rumpled state. “Your AI let me in. I hope I didn’t get it into any trouble,” he said.

“It’s fine,” Tony said sniffing at his coffee in delight. He wondered, his brain still fuzzy, how T’Challa had managed to make it smell so damn good. Clearly this wasn’t his coffee. The King of Wakanda had brought his own and it was that super-secret kind that Tony had been bugging him about ever since they had met. “What brings you here?” he asked. “I mean, aside from tormenting me with amazing coffee I’ll never be able to get my hands on.”

“I was visiting SHIELD to see if I could find any leads on an alien woman who recently tried to breach Wakanda’s borders,” T’Challa said with a sigh. “She didn’t get into the country, of course, but the fact that she thought she could intrigued me.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow and sipped his coffee. It was perfect, just the way he liked it. That wasn’t a surprise, really. He and T’Challa had spent hours working together after he had successfully begged King T’Chaka for Vibranium to fix Steve’s shield when it had been damaged in battle. They hadn’t been the best of friends at first, but after making each other coffee over and over again and eating while figuring out the best way to fix the damage with the handful of Vibranium King T’Chaka had been willing to part with in exchange for a lucrative contract with Stark Industries, they had become close. After King T’Chaka’s death, T’Challa spent a lot of time in Wakanda in radio silence, dealing with everything that had been shifted over to his shoulders as best he could with his friends and remaining family at his side. While he and Tony had kept in contact by email, they hadn’t had much in the way of a conversation in months. T’Challa had a standing invitation to see the Avengers and poke around in Stark Industries, but normally T’Challa phoned first _before_ he visited; it was rare that he appeared without notice. Clearly the mysterious alien, while not having gotten past the Dora Milaje, his personal bodyguards, had caused quite a stir in Wakanda.

“Oh?” Tony said.  "What did your mystery lady do?"

“Nothing, really.  She wasn’t a problem aside from leaving some rather unpleasant blood behind during her attack. It was thoroughly cleaned and disposed of as per our protocols. SHIELD has informed me all about her, and I believe she is more of your problem than she is mine,” T’Challa said with a throaty chuckle. “She’s been involved with Madame Hydra and the rest of their miscreants.”

Tony tensed. “You found our flower-lady?”

“Found is a relative term,” T’Challa said. “We defeated her and she ran away in defeat when her organic replications didn’t give her an edge in combat or a way into our city.”

Tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. At least the alien hadn’t broken into Wakanda – and hey, they now had a place to start looking for her again.

“Don’t worry – she’ll turn up,” T’Challa said, clearing his throat. “More importantly, I’ve heard rumors that you’ve gotten yourself a cat.”

Tony let out a startled laugh. “I should have known it would be the _cat_ that really brought you here,” he said.

T’Challa sat down with a grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Stark.”

“Sure,” Tony said, winking at T’Challa. “You’re not amused by cats at all – nope. Not even a little bit.”

“I’m a little intrigued as to what magnificent creature caught your eye,” T’Challa conceded. He glanced over his shoulder at Lord Stompy, who had finished his meal and was warily licking his whiskers on his food mat a few feet away, still poised in front of his dish. “He seems to think he is a great warrior trapped in a plump furry body,” T’Challa said.

“He likes to bite,” Tony said. “I’m not sure that’s what warriors do. Well, not _honorable_ ones, at least.”

“Very true,” T’Challa said. “I was surprised to find your kitchen empty this morning. The Falcon seems to be avoiding your kitchen. Perhaps he has been bitten too many times.”

“Sam’s probably pouting because Rhodey’s not here yet,” Tony said with a shrug.

T’Challa perked up. “You haven’t introduced them yet?”

“Not yet,” Tony said. “Rhodey’s on a top-secret mission. He doesn’t even know Sam’s here.”

“I think I’ll stick around instead of heading off home now that I’m done questioning Justin Hammer about our alien,” T’Challa said with a smile. “I don’t want to miss seeing Colonel Rhodes meet his true love face to face for the first time.”

“You were here to visit Hammer?” Steve said. He sat down in the chair across from T’Challa with a plate of muffins in hand. He pushed the plate towards Tony when he noticed the way Tony was eyeing them. “Did Hammer give you any information?”

“He gave me nothing of interest,” T’Challa said. “From the reports SHIELD reluctantly handed over, it seems he isn’t willing to talk to strangers. My conversation with him was one sided and netted me nothing. He might, however, be willing to talk to someone he wishes to taunt.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “You think he’ll be willing to talk to me?”

“He’s battered and bruised,” T’Challa said. “He’s mostly healed from his confrontation with Brock Rumlow. I believe his ego is telling him that he needs to pick a fight now that he can once more form a fist.”

Tony grimaced. The last thing he wanted to do was spend a day talking with Justin Hammer, but if there was a chance Hammer could tell them something about their mysterious alien woman he would just have to suck it up and accept the sheer torture that was Justin Hammer’s personality. “What do you say, Steve? Want to go get irritated?”

Steve grinned. “You sure you want to do that? You did promise Pepper that you’d do paperwork today.”

Tony winced. “Oh. Right.” He really did owe Pepper another day in the office, but if Hammer could give them something they could use to track down their alien lady – and essentially, Bucky’s next targets or Bucky himself. She would forgive him for leaving without finishing his work. Maybe. If he was lucky. He might have to buy her an entire closet-full of shoes, but she would forgive him.

“Shall I stall her for you so you can make your escape?” T’Challa asked with a drawl. He cocked his head to the side as Lord Stompy amble across the floor towards him and didn’t react when the cat wiggled his behind and launched himself up into his lap, purring loudly as though greeting an old friend.

“Sure,” Tony said, draining the last of his coffee. “If you being here doesn’t distract her, the sight of Lord Stompy napping in your lap will.”

T’Challa laughed. “I’ll be sure to make noise when she comes up here to collect you,” he said, stroking Lord Stompy’s head. The cat nuzzled his fingers and then began cleaning his teeth on his knuckles. “You have a very handsome cat, Stark.”

“I’m sure he thinks so,” Tony said.

“You’d better leave before he figures out what you just said,” T’Challa said.

Steve picked up a muffin and tossed it to Tony. “Let’s get going then,” he said. “I’m pretty sure we’re going to get caught if we stick around.”

“You’re encouraging me to drop my work in order to run off and go harass Justin Hammer?” Tony said with mock horror. “Whatever will they say about you, Captain?”

“They’ll say I knew how to motivate people,” Steve said, turning Tony around and gently pushing him towards the glass doors that separated the penthouse from the Quinjet launch pad.

The elevator dinged.

Tony snuck out to the Quinjet with Steve watching the doors behind them. They met an irritated looking Natasha on the landing pad and reluctantly let her lead the way. He had a hard time not laughing when he caught sight of Pepper’s scowling face through the window as she stared out at them; ten seconds later Pepper spotted T’Challa with Lord Stompy and the grumpy face turned into one of complete awe, so he had a feeling that they had escaped unscathed.

“I hope this is worth it,” Natasha grumbled.

“I hope so too,” Tony said.

They flew to SHIELD HQ, and landed after receiving permission from a harassed sounding woman manning the comms. Fury broken in to the conversation directly after the approval was given and ordered them to get their asses moving. Everything felt tense; even Natasha moved a little faster than usual.

The walk down to Hammer’s cell was long and grim. Hammer hadn’t been placed in one of the kinder, softer cells. He had been given the super villain treatment, and there was little to nothing in his room save a toilet, bed and a small basin for washing his hands; his cell had glass walls, and looked out into an empty hallway which was patrolled by SHIELD agents and security cameras, both of which paid far too much attention to him for his liking.

Hammer sneered at Tony from his rock-hard looking bed. He wasn’t standing, and while his injuries seemed mostly healed, he was still covered in faded bruises. “Oh, you finally came to visit?” he said. “I thought you were too much of a chicken-shit to see me.”

Natasha glanced over at Tony and watched Hammer out of the corner of her eye; Steve did the opposite, focusing his attention on Hammer.

Tony snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “You do realize you’re not the centre of my life, right?” he said. “I had things to do – a company to run.”

“We spent a lot of time together, Tony,” Hammer said with a sniff, his now slightly crooked nose upturned. “I thought you’d at least have the decency to piss on me face to face.” He gestured to the empty cell around him. “You’re the one who told them to strip me of the last of my dignity, right?”

Tony grimaced. Maybe this trip was a mistake after all. Why had he come here again? “You did that to yourself when you decided to work with _Hydra_ ,” he said.

“I was _forced_!” Hammer said indignantly. “You and I both know that!”

“You weren’t being forced until they realized how useless you were to them,” Tony said flatly. “We both know you thought they were going to help you get a chunk of my company.”

Hammer chuckled. “Fine – Ok. Yes, that was the _plan_ , but I wasn’t going to end with me destroying the world by brainwashing people. I can destroy the world with bombs – not that I would – but in theory that was a possibility.” He scowled at the security cameras as though they were real people, judging him. “Look. All I’m saying is that I don’t know why I’m getting all this shitty treatment. I’m not violent – I didn’t hurt anyone. I was the one hurt!”

“You’re in here because Fury didn’t want you coming in to contact with your friend,” Natasha said.

Hammer scowled. “What friend?”

“You hired the alien lady,” Tony said. “What was her name again?”

“Flora? What about her?” Hammer said.

“That’s her full name?” Tony asked. He accessed Extremis with a blink and started taking notes.

“That’s the name she gave me,” Hammer said with a shrug. He grimaced and rubbed at his hand. “I don’t know why _she’s_ so interesting. She’s locked up here too, isn’t she?”

“She escaped,” Tony said. “Took Rumlow with her. And she walked off with Pierce too.”

Hammer’s bravado promptly vanished. “You’re shitting me. They’re all out?”

“Is there a reason why we would be lying?” Steve asked, his expression flat.

“Tony _always_ lies to me,” Hammer said, pointing at Tony. “He’s made of lies.”

Tony’s left eye began to twitch. “Sure, Hammer. Whatever you say.”

“Tell us about Flora,” Natasha said.

Hammer glanced over at Natasha and then locked eyes with Tony again. “Why should I?”

“Because we can make things worse for you,” Tony said.

“How?” Hammer said with a laugh.

“We’ll take away your pudding,” Natasha said.

Hammer paled. “You wouldn’t.”

“We would,” Natasha said. “All it’ll take is one word to the guards and bam no chocolate pudding. No vanilla. No tapioca.”

Hammer squinted at Tony. “You wouldn’t let her do that, would you?”

“Try me,” Tony said.

Hammer groaned. “Alright – fine. Flora – I met her on a trip to Madripoor. She was there for Bullet Fest – one of those weapons conventions. You know the ones. SHIELD sends their lackeys there to all of them so I can’t see how this is new to you.”

“Just keep talking,” Tony said, gritting his teeth.

“She came up to me while I was bidding on some tech – all of it perfectly legal,” Hammer said. “Claimed she could change colours and grow buds of herself. Whatever that meant. She claimed that she in the market to help the right people out. For a price.”

“Mercenary?” Tony asked.

“Espionage expert and thief,” Hammer said. “I took her card because who knows, right? Everyone can be useful if you know where to point them, and I like having tools around.”

“You didn’t mention this the last time I was here,” Natasha said, thoughtfully.

“I don’t owe SHIELD shit,” Hammer said. He cleared his throat and looked back at Tony. “Besides – I though you guys knew all of this. You had her picture and everything – hell, you _caught_ her. You’re telling me she didn’t say anything about what she did for a living?”

“She wasn’t talkative,” Natasha said.

“That’s too bad,” Hammer said. “Maybe you should have threatened to take away _her_ pudding.”

Natasha scowled. “Don’t tempt me, Hammer. Why did you get involved with her?”

Hammer glared at Natasha. “I hired her because she came with good references – everyone who used her got what they wanted and she was fast about it. Supposedly she could get you whatever you wanted in under a day if you knew where it would be.”

“Let me guess,” Tony said. “A woman with green hair was one of her references.”

“Madame Hydra – yep. That was her. Only she was going by Viper then,” Hammer said. “I recognized her after she threw me in a ‘guest room’ in that underwater shithole.” He rolled onto his side and then quickly sat up again, his face pale and sweaty. “Stupid bruises,” he muttered under his breath.

“Anything else you can remember about her?” Tony said. “Locations? Hangouts? How did you pay her?”

“I don’t know about where she hung out,” Hammer said. “She walked around with her hood up and a mask on. Not exactly out of the ordinary for Madripoor.”

“So you just called her up and she told you she’d love to steal from me?” Tony asked. It was starting to seem more and more like Hammer had been set up. People like Flora – competent people – didn’t just appear and decide to work with walking clusterfucks like Justin Hammer unless they had a damn good reason.

“I didn’t just pick her out of the blue,” Hammer said with an irritated huff. “I vetted her and had her do some small scale stuff for me as a test.”

“Let me guess – stealing parts from other companies?” Natasha said.

“Stealing stuff from coffee shops,” Hammer said. “If she could get her way into a packed coffee shop and walk out with bags of coffee she was good enough to hire for more important stuff.”

Tony groaned internally while keeping his expression neutral. Hammer had tested Flora by having her steal coffee? No wonder she had been willing to help him get screwed over. “And you’re sure it was her you paid after you hired her to steal from me?”

Hammer frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Did she send you proof of what she was doing?” Tony asked.

“She took pictures of all the buildings she went through if that’s what you’re asking. Had them time stamped and everything,” Hammer said. “She liked money. Wanted to be paid half in advance and half after. I respected that. I like money too.”

“And you emailed her again from the underwater base?” Tony asked. “Sounds like they didn’t have very good security.”

Hammer flushed, his cheeks going tomato red. “I’m not a complete moron, you know. I can hack systems when I have to.”

“Hack what exactly?” Natasha said.

“Well,” Hammer said scowling, “ _Technically_ it wasn’t a hack. I stole that moron Rumlow’s phone when he wasn’t looking and sent her a text for help. I deleted the responses she sent me back, but I guess they figured it out eventually, even though I put his phone back right after.”

“What’s her number?” Natasha said with a growl.

“I get extra pudding if you want that,” Hammer said with a toothy grin. “And I’ll throw in the bank account I sent her money to for free.”

“Fine,” Natasha said. “But if the number doesn’t work, you’re going to be eating that pudding through a straw.”

Hammer gulped. “Fine.”

 

Natasha scowled as they walked back to the Quinjet. “I wouldn’t have believed he was holding anything back if I hadn’t seen it,” she said. “I guess his stupidity made us underestimate him.”

“You did get something new then,” Steve said. “That’s good.”

“We’ve heard the name Flora bouncing around the underworld for years,” Natasha said with a sigh. “She was up there with the Winter Soldier. We could never catch her or put a face to her – she was always there and then gone. If we had known who we were dealing with we would have taken precautions.”

“You knew she was capable of making clones?” Steve sighed. “Fantastic.”

“There are a lot of people out there who can make clones, Steve,” Natasha said with a grimace. “And we’ve only ever seen hers in pictures. We’ve never had physical data about them. They always disintegrate into nothing and vanish before we can get to them.”

“Not surprising,” Tony said. “If that’s her big trademark she’s probably careful as hell with it.”

“Exactly,” Natasha said. “All we had to go by was that the clones never say a word – or so our interviewees have said. We didn’t know if that was the truth or bullshit until now.”

“So what now?” Steve asked.

“I’m running the bank account numbers,” Tony said as they walked into the Quinjet. He took a seat in the back and tried not to think about how warm Steve’s thigh was when Steve sat down right next to him. “So far everything is checking out. She moved the money but the transfers are still there to follow and damn did she not bother cleaning the rest up. I guess she figured Hammer would be dead and the numbers dead with him.”

“That’s good,” Natasha said. “Send me the information.”

“Already done,” Tony said.

“You used Extremis?” Natasha said, cocking an eyebrow. “That was fast.”

Steve frowned. “What’s Extremis?”

Tony froze, his mouth still open waiting for him to respond. Steve didn’t know about Extremis? Wait – _Natasha_ knew about Extremis? Had Pepper told her? He had only talked directly with, Bruce, Rhodey and Pepper about it and unless SHIELD had far better bugs than he knew, no one else should have known. Had Pepper spilled the beans? Had pillow talk been a factor?

“Did I say something wrong?” Steve asked, looking between Natasha and Tony.

“Sorry, Tony,” Natasha said, smoothing down Tony’s hair. “Pepper told me about it. She gets worried about you – and she wanted me to know in case there was a problem with hers or yours.”

Tony put his head in his hands. Today was not the day he wanted to be having this discussion with Steve – or Natasha, but at least now he knew that she could handle it. It was bad enough that he had had to have the conversation two times already. “What do you know about Extremis?” Tony asked Steve, gnawing on his lower lip.

“I’ve heard the word a few times,” Steve said. “Bruce mentions it in passing every once in a while and I’ve heard Rhodey telling you off for using it but no one has actually told me what it means. They always tell me to talk to you about it. They said it had something to do with your suit.”

“OK,” Tony said, taking in a deep breath in through his nose. “So here’s the thing. When I fought the Mandarin we had a few problems.”

Natasha cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed.

Tony groaned. “Look. I was life or death, ok? Killian injected Pepper with an experimental and highly unstable version of Extremis – it’s a virus, a manmade virus that unlocks potential in certain candidates – and she almost died. This isn’t something you just find lying around –I’ve got it completely sealed away now so no one is going to make anything like it again.”

“It’s dangerous?” Steve asked.

“Extremely dangerous. Level the world dangerous,” Tony said with reluctance.

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

“Think of it this way. Extremis is a computer program in virus form. It rewrote my DNA – fixed things that weren’t working right and added things that I wanted,” Tony said, clearing his throat. “It can do that for pretty much anyone its compatible with.”

“And for those who aren’t compatible?” Steve asked.

“They’ll die – instantly,” Tony said.

“What did it do to you?” Steve asked, his hands balling into fists.

“I’m a technopath now. I can use computers and anything electronic with my mind. I heal faster – I think faster. I can build things faster. I react faster – it’s all good, Steve. It’s not a problem.”

“Aside from the whole you working for more hours than you should, thing,” Natasha said with a grunt.

Tony shot Natasha a dirty look. “Aside from that, yes. It’s completely safe. Non-transferable and locked to my DNA.”

“Wait – hold on one damned minute. You _rewrote_ yourself?” Steve said flatly, his lips pursed. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Yes,” Tony said, relieved that Steve had understood so quickly.

“And you rewrote _Pepper_?” Steve said. His hands clenched on his lap. “You rewrote your _friend_?”

“It’s not like I decided I wanted to do it for shits and giggles – Pepper’s version had to be fixed,” Tony said quickly. “It would have killed her if I hadn’t worked on the code – I made adjustments and its safe now, I swear!”

“Tony,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not about it being safe.”

“Pepper’s version is dormant,” Tony continued. “She didn’t want to use it so I made sure it wouldn’t be accessible without her express permission. I didn’t change anything in her but that part. She’s the exact same Pepper she’s always been – except maybe she drinks more coffee now and sleeps a little worse. But that part is mostly because she was kidnapped.” He frowned at Steve, feeling hurt. “Why would you think I’d do something to change her? She’s perfect the way she is.”

Natasha smiled. “Agreed,” she said.

“Alright,” Steve said with a long, drawn out sigh. “So she’s the same. But you’re not. And why – _exactly_ – did you choose to just stick something like that inside yourself? You were fine the way you were too, Tony.”

“I wasn’t fine,” Tony said with a scowl, rubbing at the arc reactor. “I was living, but I sure as hell wasn’t fine.”

Steve cocked an eyebrow.

“With Extremis, things would be so much better so I thought why not? I mean, I was already having heart problems, so it wasn’t like using Extremis would make those worse,” Tony said with a shrug.

“Heart problems?” Steve said, his eyes widening.

Tony glanced over at Natasha and then froze. “Steve didn’t know?” he muttered through the side of his mouth. “How did he _not_ know?”

“I thought you told him!” Natasha muttered back, her arms crossed over her chest. “I swear someone told him! He seemed to know about the arc reactor being important.”

“Wait,” Steve said, holding up a hand. “The _Arc reactor_ was stopping your heart problems?”

“You didn’t know?” Tony said, flabbergasted. “You really didn’t know how important the arc reactor was back then?”

“No, Tony – I didn’t. What was it doing? Was it keeping your heart beating?” Steve said. “Oh dear god, it was keeping your heart beating, wasn’t it?”

“I could have sworn I told you,” Tony muttered. “And no – for the record it was keeping shrapnel from entering my heart and killing me. It wasn’t keeping my heart beating.”

“Tony,” Steve said with a hiss, tensing up. “Are you telling me you could have died if the arc reactor took damage?”

“That was before,” Tony said, flapping a hand at Steve. “I’m perfectly fine now that I’ve got Extemis.”

“Tony,” Steve said, his voice strained.

“It’s fine,” Tony said.

“You had shrapnel near your heart so you decided to _inject_ yourself with an experimental _virus_?” Steve said. “I mean that’s bad enough but you could have died even before that. What the hell were you thinking?”

“It was thinking about getting things fixed,” Tony said, quickly, trying and failing to contain his discomfort. He had known that Steve wouldn’t be happy to hear about Extremis; that was partially why he had avoided having a conversation with him about it in the first place. But he hadn’t though that Steve would be outright against it. “It worked out better than expected.” He smiled weakly at Steve, realizing that he had probably just dug himself into an even bigger hole. “I didn’t just stab myself with a needle and go oh boy! I modified it – I made myself better. Really. It’s fine.”

“Tony,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s my body, Steve,” Tony said with a scowl. He gritted his teeth. “I made some improvements – don’t tell me what I did was wrong. If I remember right, you had a few improvements done to _you_ too.”

Steve flushed. “Don’t compare what I did to – you know what? I’m not going to judge you.” He took in a long breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring and cleared his throat, giving his head a shake. “You’re fine now and that’s what matters.” His voice was strained, like someone had squeezed him a little too tightly. “Does Bucky know?”

Tony shifted uneasily in his seat and tugged at his collar, suddenly feeling strangled. “It hasn’t come up yet,” he said, slowly. Like with Steve, he wasn’t so sure how much Bucky knew. There was a possibility Bucky knew something and hadn’t said anything – he had done a lot of talking when Bucky was a cat, after all. Pepper and Rhodey might have let something slip too – but there was no way to know unless Bucky mentioned it and so far he had been damn quiet. And well. Gone.

Steve put his head in his hands.

Tony slumped in his seat. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know, Tony,” Steve said. “I really don’t know.” He shook his head. “He’s not going to be happy when he finds out – you being in danger won’t make him happy.”

Tony gulped. Great. Now the already awkward conversation he needed to have with Bucky would add an extra layer to the shit-show. He looked down at his hands through blurry eyes. Would Bucky be alright if he found out about Extremis? About the things Tony could do? He hadn’t mentioned anything but this wasn’t exactly like the serum – it wasn’t some scientist who had put Extremis inside of him. He had done it to himself. Did that make him a monster? Would Bucky think that of him? That he had done something wrong?

Natasha stood up and smacked Steve in the back of the head.

Steve yelped.

“Don’t be a dick,” Natasha said, her hands on her hips. “Bucky’s not going to think less of Tony for having Extremis. He’s going to be happy Tony hasn’t keeled over. He _might_ be annoyed that he wasn’t outright told, but he isn’t the _only_ one who keeps secrets.” She gently carded her fingers through Tony’s hair. “Bucky will be fine,” she said, firmly. “And if he isn’t, I’ll kick his ass for you. Pepper and Rhodey will help. As will Steve.” She squinted at Steve. “He damn well better.”

Tony laughed and leaned into Natasha’s touch. “Thanks,” he said. He was glad to hear the offer, but if Bucky couldn’t understand Extremis and what had happened, then at least Bucky leaving him permanently would be quick instead of drawn out. Either way it would hurt – but at least it wouldn’t hurt forever.

“Not a problem,” Natasha said, still scowling at a now abashed looking Steve. “And for the record I’m sorry I said something about it without talking to you first.”

“It’s ok,” Tony said, shrugging. “It’s not like you said it to be an asshole.”

“I should have known better,” Natasha grumbled.

“The apology’s more than enough to make up for that,” Tony said, his voice soft.

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. His stomach rumbled, the sound echoing through the quinjet. “Alright,” he said, watching Natasha and Tony carefully, smiling nervously. “Maybe this isn’t the best time to be talking about this. Let’s go home and get something to eat. We can look at Flora’s file all we want when we’re home. There’s no sense in sticking around here when we’ve got all the information we need from Hammer.”

“Feeling _hangry_ , Captain?” Tony asked with a chuckle.

“Everything is better with food,” Steve said solemnly. He smiled at Tony. “I know I’m not in any position to ask this, but in the future, can you maybe talk with someone before you jump into a decision like Extremis?”

Tony scowled. Great. Now Captain America was going to personally babysit him for the rest of his life. What had he done to deserve this? “Way to kill the mood, Cap.”

“Tony,” Steve said, softly. “I’m not saying it has to be me – I’m saying talk to someone, alright? Please? Call Pepper or Rhodey – or Bucky. Don’t make those kinds of decisions alone unless you absolutely have to. I know what it’s like jumping into things and yes, it turned out alright for me, but I’m pretty sure if Bucky had known about it he’d have wrung my neck for even thinking about joining Project Rebirth.”

“Good point,” Tony said with a grunt. “Fine. If I have time, I’ll consult with someone the next time I get a crazy idea that may or may not save my life. I make no promises that I’ll be able to do that every time though.”

Steve smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “I just need you to be safe – I mean, the team needs you. We all need you safe.”

“The same goes for you,” Tony said, pointing at Steve. “The next time you think about making some stupid-ass decision like raiding a Hydra base on your own, you need to talk with someone.”

Steve’s ears went pink. “Deal.”

“I’m glad that’s settled,” Natasha said. “Burgers?”

“Burgers sound great,” Tony said. He smiled harder when the search he had been running with Extremis sent him a ping as Flora’s banking information was pulled into his sights. “Burgers would be excellent.”

 

 

Tony ate while reviewing Flora’s banking information, a decoy tablet sitting on the table in front of him. He was aware of Natasha and Steve at the table beside him, talking with T’Challa about Lord Stompy and the information they had dug up on Flora but kept his focus on the numbers dancing in front of him, too entranced by the break to care about anything else; he barely tasted the burger. The accounts Hammer had used to send Flora money were empty, but thankfully someone had been lax on scrubbing the transfer information in Madripoor. He picked up Flora’s trail easily as he munched on a greasy mushroom that had escaped from T’Challa’s burger only vaguely aware that T’Challa had given it to him at some point in the conversation.

“You’re smiling creepily over there,” Natasha said, leaning into Tony’s personal space. She frowned at him, her face so close to his he could feel her breath on his cheek. “What did you find out?”

Tony pushed the tablet towards Natasha and blinked away the dryness in his eyes. He hoped no one had noticed him glazing over as he used Extremis. “I’ve got a lead on Flora’s location,” he said.

“That’s fantastic!” Steve said, leaning closer to look at Tony’s tablet. He frowned when he saw its black screen.

Tony sent the information he had been funneling through to the tablet and displayed it with a chuckle. “Sorry – bad habits die hard,” he said.

T’Challa cocked an eyebrow and looked from the tablet to Tony. “Is this an inside joke?” he asked.

“Sorry,” Natasha said. “It’s a lame joke if it’s any consolation.”

T’Challa chuckled. “Let me guess. It’s about something that starts with an E.”

Tony’s’ eyes widened. “How did you – does _everyone_ know?”

T’Challa hummed softly to himself and handed Tony a French fry. “We can talk about it later,” he reassured Tony. “For now, let’s see what our little devil plant has gotten herself up to while outside SHIELD’s cells.”

“Do you have her location?” Natasha asked, her expression turning business-like.

“I do,” Tony said. “Do we want to go after her personally or send SHIELD in first?” He tapped into the video feeds for the hotel room Flora appears to have rented in Poland. He used Extremis to project the feeds into holographic form. There, displayed in all her glory, was Flora sitting on her bed cross legged, reading a magazine. Her suitcases were unpacked and empty on the floor beside her, and she was wearing a set of pink pajamas with fluffy dogs on them.

“Have the Quinjet prepped and ready to go,” Steve said, still watching the video feed.

Natasha frowned. “Someone’s coming in through the window,” she said.

Steve, Tony, T’Challa and Natasha all craned their necks to get a better view.

“You can’t shift the camera?” Steve asked.

“Nope,” Tony said. “It’s stationary. The piece of tape she put on it looks like its fallen off.” He tapped at the black lines around the edge of the video feed. “Either she hasn’t noticed it happened, or she’s doing this on purpose.”

“Or someone removed it so we could watch,” T’Challa drawled.

Flora continued to read her magazine, flipping through the pages; she appeared relaxed, close to sleep even as a man climbed into the room through the window just behind her. Tony took in a sharp breath. He recognized the intruder’s movements and hair; Flora’s attacker wasn’t bothering to hide his appearance – this was Bucky, or, if they were truly screwed, the Winter Soldier back in action.

Steve grimaced. “How the hell did he track her?”

Bucky moved so fast the camera had trouble keeping up with him. One second he was on the opposite side of the bed, the next he had Flora pinned on the floor with his boot on the back of her neck. It was almost uncomfortable to watch as he disabled her, striking at her knees and elbows with brutal efficiency. She wouldn’t be running from this fight, even if she could get away from him. When he was finished, Bucky rolled Flora over and leaned closer, saying something. The cameras couldn’t pick it up; all they had was the grainy video and a distant shot of Bucky’s lips that was too blurry to read.

Tony sat tense, his stomach roiling as Flora smirked at Bucky and spat in his face.

Steve’s grimace deepened. “If he kills her, SHIELD is going to go after him,” he said.

Natasha sighed and pulled out her phone. “He’s the Winter Soldier, Rogers. He’s better at tracking than most of the people at SHIELD.” She placed a call and leaned against the table, drumming her fingers beside the tablet as they watched Flora and Bucky continue to exchange words. “Clint’s not answering his phone. Save the footage and we’ll show it to him when he gets back – maybe he can figure out what the hell they’re saying.”

“Should we leave now then?” T’Challa asked.

“The Avengers can handle this,” Steve said, firmly. “It’s probably better if Wakanda isn’t involved.”

T’Challa sighed. “Alright,” he said. “I suppose I can cat-sit if I must remain here.”

Tony stared at the video feed, mesmerized and partially horrified as Flora twisted on the floor and kicked Bucky in the chest, sending him flying out of frame. She calmly snapped her joints back into place and then threw herself at him like a wild animal as he ran back into frame, kicking and clawing at Bucky with the unexpected ferocity.

“Holy shit,” Tony heard himself say as Flora kicked Bucky in the chest again, all the while dangling by throat from his cybernetic arm. Was this the Winter Soldier? Had he truly come back? He clenched his fists so hard, his knuckles went white. Please not let this be the Winter Soldier, he found himself mouthing. Please no.

Bucky pulled out a hunting knife on screen.

Flora snarled silently and clawed at him; greenish-blue tentacles sprouted from her shoulders and shot at Bucky, wrapping around his arms.

Tony looked away, bile rising in his throat.

Steve put a steady hand on Tony’s shoulder. “It’s over,” he said, nodding to the screen. At some point while Tony was squeezing his eyes shut, Bucky had delivered a knockout blow and taken Flora down. There was blood all over the place, splatters of rainbow-metallic fluid splashed on the walls and floor from the severed tentacles. “If we hurry, we can try and find him in the city,” Steve said.

Tony looked up at the screen. Bucky was very calmly wrapping Flora’s unconscious body up in her sheets, rolling her around until her arms and legs were pinned together and only her head visible. Oh god. He’d done it after all. “He killed her,” he said, his voice a croak.

“We don’t know that,” Natasha said. “He left her head uncovered. He wouldn’t do that if she was dead.”

“We need to go,” Steve said calmly. “Tony – get your suit on. Let’s go.”

Tony stood on shaking legs. Steve was right. They needed to go. They needed to get to Poland and mitigate the damage if it was still possible. There might still be enough of Bucky left in the Winter Soldier to convince him to stop his rampage if he was indeed on one. It would take time to get there, but they could still do it. They could track traces of Flora’s blood now that the room was splashed with it – Bucky couldn’t hide for long with a body. He staggered towards the elevator, letting Jarvis control everything as he fought to stay calm.

 

When he arrived at the Quinjet, suited up and ready to go, he found that everyone else was lounging around in the cockpit, half-dressed and in no rush. He seethed inside, furious that they were acting like this was some kind of run of the mill retrieval. This was Bucky – his Bucky – this wasn’t some kind of super villain. They couldn’t just half ass this. He opened the faceplate, ready to let loose on them and then realized that Steve was smiling. That was odd. Why would Steve be smiling about something like this?

“Relax,” Natasha said, looking up from her phone. “SHIELD just notified us that Flora mysteriously appeared in their Poland base. Bucky left her alive and taped a note to her forehead telling them where to find the mess he left after he caught her.”

Tony slumped inside the suit. “Thank fuck,” he said in a hissed breath.

“He’s probably long gone by now,” Steve said with a chuckle. “But he left us a trail to follow.”

A chime dinged in Tony’s head. He had received an email.

“You ok, Tony?” Natasha asked, frowning at him.

Tony groaned and let the suit take his weight, locking its knees so he could relax without tipping completely over. “He just sent me an email telling me to stay at home.”

Steve’s smile dimmed. “He still doesn’t want us to help him?”

“Apparently not,” Tony said.

“That was all he sent you?” Steve asked.

“Oh, no. There’s something else but you can’t see that part,” Tony said dryly. He felt giddy now that he knew Bucky was still in control; if Bucky was still capable of sending him naked pictures in a vain attempt at placating him, he wasn’t under the Winter Soldier’s spell after all. Unless, of course, the Winter Soldier was a kinky bastard and liked sending naked pictures of himself to people.

“Let me guess,” Natasha said with a snort. “More nudity.”

“Pretty much,” Tony said.

Steve’s cheeks went pink. He put his face in his hands. “Great,” he mumbled through his fingers. “At least he’s still himself.”

“Should we go to Poland anyway?” Tony asked. He knew he was going to go regardless of what the team said. He needed to see Flora’s room, needed to see what Bucky had found out, even if it meant crawling around on the carpet looking for loose fibers.

“Oh, we’re definitely going,” Natasha said with a smirk. “If you’d get your ass in the Quinjet, I’d have left already.”

Tony let out a cackled laugh, feeling the tension leak free from his body. This was better. This was something he could deal with. Flora was locked up again, and they had a trail to follow once more, even if Bucky didn’t want them following along. This he could do. He released the suit’s joints and flipped the faceplate. “Race you,” he taunted, firing up his repulsors.

Natasha grinned at him. “Sure,” she said. “Move it, Cap. You’re slowing us down.”

Steve chuckled and stepped inside. “See you there, Stark,” he said.

“I bet you I’ll make it there faster,” Tony said, shooting up into the sky. He watched as the Quinjets rear door closed in the distance and barrel rolled as he tore past the skyscrapers below him. He hadn’t flown in so long. It felt like he was being wrapped up in Bucky’s arms. He grinned.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so damn long! I'll try to keep updating every couple of weeks


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flora was a wonderful source of information - not that she was willing to tell them anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for blood and death of Hydra grunts

Tony let Steve take the lead and watched impatiently with his faceplate up as Steve argued with the SHIELD staffer who had met them about whether or not they were allowed to interrogate Flora.  It was less of an argument once Steve was done, and more of a friendly discussion; Tony was glad it hadn’t been up to him because he would have been close to shaking the man by his shoulders by the time they were finished.  Even Natasha looked irritated.

Flora was in an isolation module within the facility.  She had yet to wake up from her confrontation with Bucky; the agents who had found her on their doorstep were reluctant to let anyone into her cell and even the doctors hadn’t been inside yet.  Steve had won them access with the paperwork he had obtained while they were in flight, and if she woke up they would be able to talk to her.

Natasha hummed softly to herself as she looked Flora over through the glass wall of her prison.  “She’s in good condition, all things considered,” she said.  “There’s a lot of damage to her body but she’s a fast healer and it’s unlikely she’ll remain unconscious for long.”

“Good,” Steve said, his arms crossed stiffly over his chest.  “I’d rather not wait any longer than we have to now that we have her.”

Tony leaned back against the cement wall behind him and locked the suit’s joints into position, too tired to bother standing up under his own power.  It was a relief to see Flora alive, and reasonably unharmed, although he wondered if that part had been intentional or not; Flora had been vicious and Bucky hadn’t been pulling his punches – it seemed more likely that she had healed over the worst of the damage, or perhaps Bucky hadn’t been aiming for killing blows after all. 

Tony kept the search for the source of the money in Flora’s account running in the background as he peered through security footage, searching for Madame Hydra’s face in every crowd he had access to.  Steve wouldn’t like that he had access to so much private information, but he was fine with taking any advantage he could when it came to hunting down Hydra’s head.  Alexander Pierce shouldn’t have gotten back out into the world; the man was Red Skull with a real face.  Who knew what he might be up to now that he was on the loose again?  The last time he had had free reign he had tried to kill millions of people with his hellicarriers – Tony wasn’t going to let that happen again.

Flora stirred slowly, uttering a barely audible groan.

“Welcome back to SHIELD,” Steve said, moving closer to the glass wall separating them from Flora’s containment unit.

Flora let out a shrill laugh and tested her bonds, wiggling and rolling each limb under the cuffs and straps, searching for weaknesses.  “Some good guys you are,” she said.  “Strapping a lady to a table without her permission is rude.”

Natasha smiled thinly.  “It’s almost like you think we care about your comfort,” she said.

“You should,” Flora growled.

“And why should we?” Natasha asked, examining her fingernails.  “Is someone going to punish us for being mean to you?”

Flora growled again.  “You’d better let me out of here.”

“Why?  You expecting someone to come for you?” Natasha asked with a sneer.  “Sure.  You’re handy but no one needs you anymore.  You got paid and all your friends are people who pay you – no one is coming out of the goodness of their hearts.  You’re alone here, Flora.”

“She’ll come,” Flora snapped.

“She?  Who might that be?” Natasha said.  “Would that be Madame Hydra?  Dear sweet Viper?”

Flora lifted her head, seething.  “Fuck you,” she said.  “You don’t know her.  She’ll come for me.”

“She’s done with you Flora,” Natasha said.  “did she say she wasn’t?”

“She’ll come for me,” Flora insisted.

“She won’t.  She doesn’t care about you.  How do you think the Winter Soldier found you?”  Natasha chuckled.  “He didn’t have to search all that hard.”

“I don’t know how he found me but that has nothing to do with Viper,” Flora said.  “He’s supposed to be best of Hydra’s soldiers – maybe they _actually_ trained him.”

“Funny,” Natasha said, “I’d have thought you would have taken more precautions if you suspected Mr. Best Assassin might show up on your doorstep.  Perhaps he didn’t have to ask around – maybe he found a source who sold you out.”

“Oh yeah?” Flora said with a snort.  “And who would that be?”

“The money,” Natasha said, flatly.  “He tracked you the way we did.  He followed the cash.”

Flora stilled.  “That’s impossible,” she said through gritted teeth.  “She wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Oh,” Natasha said with a sharp smile, “I see.  Madame Hydra handled the money transfers personally, didn’t she?”

“So what if she did!” Flora said.

“She sold you out,” Steve murmured.

Natasha chuckled.  “That must be so embarrassing,” she said exchanging looks with Steve.  “The one person you trust more than anyone and she’s the reason why you got snapped up by the Winter Soldier.  If I were you, I’d be mad.”

“You’re wrong,” Flora said.  “She wouldn’t do that to me.”

“So you think we’re lying?” Steve asked, curious.

“You have to be!” Flora snapped.

“Why would we lie?” Steve said.  “We found you even without the Winter Soldier’s help.  The money didn’t lie – it didn’t play games and hide.  It was right there for anyone to find if they knew where to look.”

Flora flattened herself against her bed.  “You’re wrong about her,” she said.  “She’ll send him – your precious Winter Soldier.  He’ll be the one who breaks me out of here.”

Tony frowned.  “Why would she do that?  He’s not part of Hydra anymore.  He’s an avenger – not her lapdog.”

“He’s programmed and primed,” Flora said with a snort.  “God – and you think I’m blind.  You’ve been living with a bomb for months – you’ve been lucky it hasn’t tripped and gone off.”

“Bucky isn’t programmed anymore,” Steve said.

“He hasn’t broken shit,” Flora said.  “Do you really think the people who made him wouldn’t have included any extra goodies in him?  Why leave something so powerful with free will?  People always say Captain America is the smart one but hot damn – you’re just as stupid as the rest of your Avengers.  So dense – must be all the muscles interfering with your brain.”

Steve squinted at Flora, unimpressed.  “You’re wasting our time.”

“All the Winter Soldiers have programming in them,” Flora said with a shrill laugh.  “They always snap back to their default programming when things get bad – didn’t you know?”

Tony took in a sharp breath.  Winter Soldiers?  Plural?  Had they missed something or was she just screwing with them?  She’d never let something slip before while in custody – not something she didn’t want them to know.  Had they struck a nerve or was she bragging?

“If you don’t believe me, why not just wait and see?” Flora said.  “I’m sure one of them will come for me.  Maybe it’ll be your favourite Soldier – maybe it’ll be one of the others, the one that likes to crush peoples head in his hands.  Or maybe it’ll be the one who likes to snap necks with her bare hands?  Hell, maybe Madame Hydra will take pity on you and just send them all at once to make your deaths quick.”

“So she’s looking for someone to save you?” Natasha said.  “You don’t think she’ll come herself?”

“She’s rebuilding Hydra,” Flora said.  “She’ll do what she needs to do.  I understand that – you’re not going to ruin my feelings for her with your bullshit.”

“So you’d be fine if she just leaves you here then?  After all, freeing you might not be in Hydra’s best interests,” Steve said.  “That doesn’t sound like anyone in love I’ve ever met.”

“You don’t know her,” Flora said.  “She loves me.  You’re a bunch of liars too out of touch with reality to understand simple things.”

“You’re a contractor,” Steve said.  “If you meant something to her wouldn’t you be at her side right now?”

Flora grinned.  “She knows I don’t do well in cold weather,” she said.  “Flowers don’t last long in the snow.”

“Sure,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes.  “That’s why you’re here right now.  Because of the _cold_.”

“You probably couldn’t handle it either,” Flora snapped.  “Siberia isn’t for everyone– that doesn’t she left me behind.”  Her eyes widened in horror.

“Oh _dear_ ,” Natasha said, pulling out her phone.  “I think someone’s said too much.”  She smiled at Tony.  “I don’t think we’re going to get anyone else out of her.”

Flora turned away, eyes squeezed shut.  “She’s still going to come for me,” she muttered sullenly.

“She can try,” Steve said with a chuckle.  “But she won’t get far.”

They left at a brisk pace, not quite running but not walking either.  Tony ran searches of known Hydra locations as they navigated the facility, letting Jarvis have fully control of the suit so he wouldn’t walk into a wall if they turned a corner unexpectedly.

“The Quinjet is prepped,” Natasha said.  “Destination?”

Tony sighed.  “I’m still scanning Siberia for heat signatures – no one seemed to think Hydra gave a shit about building a base there.”

Steve pulled the doors open for them and let them back out into the lot where they had parked the Quinjet.

“They might not have,” Natasha said, leading them into the Quinjet.  “But the Red Room had places there.  I heard whispers of something the agents liked to call Unending Winter back when I was being trained there, but I always thought it was just their way of making fun of the poor bastards that ended up there.”  She shut the Quinjet’s doors behind them with the slap of a button and slid into the cockpit, taking her place at the stick.  Her voice echoed over the hum of the engines as she pulled tem into the sky, not waiting for them to take their seats.

“So the Red Room, huh,” Tony said, opening his faceplate.  “Sounds lovely.”

“They dissolved before anything concrete appeared.  Fury’s had me searching for information on them for years but what the supposed Siberia site contains is a mystery and it’s been cold for too long.  Our scans couldn’t find it back then – I’m betting your equipment will have much better luck finding it if it exists,” Natasha said.

Tony grimaced and opened his eyes.  “If Madame Hydra is there now, she’ll be leaving a huge trail – they’ll need electrical to get it running and they’ll leave a heat signature big enough for anyone to pick up.”

“Anything?” Steve asked after ten minutes of silence on Tony’s part.

“This is bad,” Tony said, his face draining of colour.  Heat signatures were lighting up the deepest part of uninhabited Siberia.  There were hundreds of people stomping around – or at least, he hoped to hell they were people and not super soldiers.  If they were Winter Soldiers, then they were up shit creek before they had even started. 

“You found them?” Natasha asked.

Tony sent the data he had uncovered to the Quinjet’s mapping system.

Steve whistled.  “That’s a lot of dots,” he said.  “All of those are super soldiers?”

“Hopefully just minions,” Tony said.  “I’m thinking that if Pierce had a huge pile of Super Soldiers around he wouldn’t wake them up all at once – not if he wanted to control them.  Bucky’s mentioned them having to be wiped before use, and if it took ten of them to take him down, it would take a hell of a lot more for an army of Winter Soldiers.”

“I hope you’re right,” Natasha said.  “Because if Barnes is down there trying to take them all on by himself he’s going to get himself killed.”

 

 

As they approached the Siberian base the heat signatures inside began to drop rapidly.  Steve and Tony were so tense Natasha ordered them to jump out of the ship and infiltrate while she parked; she would meet them later.

Tony picked Steve up, holding him like a bride on her special day, and jumped from the open Quinjet doors.  They shot through the frigid air as fast as Tony dared, nearly blinded by the falling snow.  Tony’s sensors were kind enough to show him the footprints leading towards the bases’ front entrance even though they were mostly masked by fresh snow.

“We’ve got twenty footprints,” Tony said into the comms.

“Great,” Steve said.  “That is a much nicer number.”

“No guarantee that’s how many are down there,” Natasha said from up above.  “They could have been massing here for weeks before Madame Hydra arrived.”

“I hate when you’re right,” Tony muttered.

“Some of these footprints don’t match up,” Steve said as Tony set him down.  “I’m seeing two sets of what are probably women’s prints.  Madame Hydra is probably here – possibly with a friend.  Second set is wearing Stark Boots – that’s interesting.”  He took point, his shield raised at the ready and motioned for Tony to follow after him.

“Talk to me, Tony,” Steve murmured as they continued further into the facility, pushing through a security checkpoint that had been left unmanned and open.  The walls and floor were all cement, but the furnishings were metal; nothing had rusted, but there was a thick layer of dust coating everything.  Footprints appeared from the darkness – far more than had been outside.  Now they were looking at possibly fifty to seventy five hostiles.

“There were a fuck ton of people here but they’re dropping like flies,” Tony said.  “It’s not us doing that either – whoever it is is fast and they’ve been on site for as long as Hydra has.”

“Great,” Steve muttered.  He stepped over a fresh body – a hydra agent who had had his head turned completely around – and motioned for Tony to come closer.  “I’ve got a hallway filled with dead men here.  I’m not sure if I should be worried about who’s taking them out or if I should worry more about the person doing the attacking.”

“Don’t panic,” Natasha said, through the comms.  “I’m coming up behind you, Tony.”

“You’re not that invisible, Romanoff,” Tony said with a snort.  “I picked up on you a few minutes ago.  Everything else in this place is a block of ice – warm things kind of stand out.”

“Interesting,” Natasha said, stepping out of the shadows to Tony’s left.  “You didn’t mention seeing me.”

“I was letting you be dramatic,” Tony said.

Steve chuckled and kept moving, pushing forwards.

Tony and Natasha followed along, keeping an eye on the various rooms and passages they slipped through.  Tony’s suit soon had schematics for the facility mapped out.  The security system was still shut down, dormant, but the electrical system was humming with life; every step they took put them closer to a new fading heat signature.  They found bodies at every turn, some mangled beyond recognition and others simply twisted in death lying where they had fallen.  Those they found alive didn’t stay that way for long.

The air around them grew colder the deeper into the facility they went.  Tony’s sensors pinged; even if they hadn’t they would have noticed the trail of blood leading down the middle of the hallway they were traveling.  There was a puddle of blood acting as the floor when they entered a large, round, room that had once served as a missile silo.  In the middle of the bloody floor was a Chair, likely still functional judging by the condition it was in and behind it stood five functional cryo-chambers, all of them open, their occupants dead.

Madame Hydra was bound and tied to the Chair.  She struggled against her bonds and glared at the woman standing behind her, furious.

Tony flinched.  “Aunt Dottie?”

Dottie smiled sweetly and waved at them.  “I see you followed after all,” she said.  “Darling Bucky was right.”  She was dressed in black body armor and combat boots, all of it Stark made.  How she had gotten her hands on it, Tony couldn’t tell.  That particular model had been made for SHIELD only.

Tony opened his faceplate and hissed when the cold air clawed at his face.  “What are you doing here?”

“Sight seeing,” Dottie said, grinning, all teeth.

“Did you do this?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dottie said with a weary sigh.  “I didn’t do _all_ of it, but I sure helped.”

“What happened?” Tony asked, still reeling from the sight of Dottie, his sweet, kind, aunt Dottie – Peggy’s friend Dottie – splattered with blood.  He really didn’t know her, did he?  Even the files he had read hadn’t prepared him for this.

“I told him to go on after his last target,” Dottie said.  “I wanted to hand over the dear Viper myself.”  She leaned closer to Madame Hydra and pressed a kiss to her lips, leaving a lipstick print behind.  Madame Hydra’s eyes rolled in her head as she passed out.

Tony took a step forward, startled.

“She’s fine,” Dottie said, waving a hand at Tony.  “She’ll be out for twelve hours if you’re lucky – thirteen if she’s unlucky.”

“Where did you get the lipstick?” Natasha asked as she walked over and pressed her fingers to Madame Hydra’s throat, checking her pulse.  She seemed relaxed but Tony could tell that she was cataloguing Dottie’s reaction, waiting patiently for a wrong move; he had been on that side of Natasha once before and he didn’t envy Dottie one bit.

“I make it myself,” Dottie said, winking at Natasha.  “I take it you like the colour?”

“I do,” Natasha said, smiling.

“It matches your hair,” Dottie said.  “Peggy always loved his colour – she would have adored you for taking such good care of our Tony.”

Tony swallowed down a mouthful of bile.  It was hard to hear Dottie speak, even harder to separate the murder machine from the sweet woman he had grown up with.  Dottie was dangerous, likely as dangerous as the Winter Soldier if not more so if she had helped take down even a fraction of the Hydra soldiers here.  Was she still a threat?  Or was she on their side?  With no cameras in the facility that were operational there was no way to know who had killed who or what had gone on down here.

“Just so you know,” Dottie said locking eyes with Tony, her expression turning soft, “I had to hit your Bucky in the head.”  She sighed.  “Madame Hydra read some words from a pretty little red notebook – which also matched my lipstick, I might add – and then he went all wonky and compliant!”  She clucked her tongue.  “I haven’t seen that in a long time – it was a real awful sight.”

Tony felt like his suit was shrinking on him; the sounds in the room went sharp and popped until all he could hear was a dull ringing.

“Tony?” Dottie moved so fast Natasha jerked back in surprise.  Dottie went up on the tips of her toes and cupped Tony’s face, concern painted blatantly on her features, all cockiness and bravado melting away.

“Bucky,” Tony mumbled, trying desperately to will away the ringing in his ears.  “Is he ok?”

“He’s fine,” Dottie said.  “Darling, he’s fine.  He has a black eye from where I clocked him but the programming’s not controlling him anymore.  “She stepped back and pulled a red leather notebook from her pocket, one with a black star on the cover.  She pressed the book into Tony’s gauntleted hand.  “They only had the one copy on them so I took it.  They got it from someplace in here – I’m not sure if there are any more but if there are you can snap him back with a good smack,” she said.

Tony clutched the notebook.  He felt like he was going to keel over.  Bucky was ok, he reminded himself – Bucky was fine.  Bucky could handle anything that came at him.  If it was true and he had been brainwashed by some words from a book it was over and done with now – oh god that was a Chair.  Had it been used?  Had they wiped Bucky?

Dottie seemed to notice where Tony was looking.  “It’s alright, darling.  He wasn’t anywhere near that damned Chair,” she said.  “And if he had been it wouldn’t have worked.  I cut the wires when I snuck in here with her minions.”

Tony leaned forward and slowly knelt on the ground.

“Tony?” Steve murmured, eyes locked on Dottie as though he was expecting her to grow a third head and breathe flames from her hands.

“He’s ok,” Tony croaked, rubbing his face with his free hand, aware only then of the sweat on his cheeks when it started to freeze and stick to the armor.

“He wanted me to tell you that he’s fine but he can’t stay and chat,” Dottie said.  “He’s working.”

Steve frowned and glanced over at Tony.  “Can you track him?”  He stood tall as he turned to face Dottie, pulling himself up to his full height.  “Do you know where he’s going?”

Dottie scowled up at Steve, going up on the tips of her toes so her nose was on level with Steve’s.  “I know who he’s going after but not where that person could be.  I’m assuming the man is following a thread that is trackable.”

“Who is he chasing?” Steve asked, sternly, towering over Dottie.

Dottie laughed, unmoved by Steve’s attempt at intimidation.  “Peggy always said you were cranky when you didn’t get your way.”

“Aunt Dottie,” Tony said with a sigh.  “Please.”  He was tired of hearing the same answer – that Bucky was gone again – but he needed to know that it was the same answer, that Bucky had gone again and of his own volition.

“Who the hell do you think he’s chasing?  Benny Hill?” Dottie said with a snort.  “He’s hunting Alexander Pierce.  I was interested in his capture as well, but you know how it is – everyone wants to get their hands on the monster that helped shape them.  The monster that’s still _alive_ , that is.”

Tony scowled.  He had known that Pierce was going to be a target eventually, but he had expected Hydra to keep him shielded for longer than this.  Madame Hydra was a top player and with her gone, he had thought it would fall to some other puppet to run the play while Pierce was in hiding.  Bucky was good, but even he would have trouble finding Pierce if security in Hydra had tightened again with Madame Hydra’s disappearance.  Damn it!  Why had Bucky felt the need to do this alone?  They could have helped him!  He knew how Bucky felt – he hated Pierce too – but why did he had to be so fucking stubborn – why do it alone?  Tony rubbed his eyes and laughed bitterly to himself, all too aware that all eyes were on him whether he liked it or not.  He knew what it was like to want revenge, to want to crush the people who had hurt him; he could understand Bucky’s need but he could also see the frustration on the faces of the people who cared about Bucky – on Steve’s face.  No one liked being sidelined. 

“What do you want to do?” Natasha asked.  “Tony – do you want us to follow Barnes or not?  We have time to track him – I know we can do it.  He’s not far.”

Tony looked over at Steve, at Madame Hydra’s unconscious form.  This fight was over – it had been over before they had even arrived.  He could track Bucky, perhaps by focusing his attention on Bucky’s arm.  The metal would be easier to track than facial recognition.  But he had promised that he wouldn’t track Bucky and if he broke that promise now Bucky might not forgive him.  As horrible as it felt, he wanted Bucky to have the chance to right some of the wrongs that had been done to him.  Bucky deserved that even if he was a jackass for leaving them behind.  “No.  Leave him.  We’re taking Madame Hydra back to her new home,” Tony said, grimly.  “She’s the priority.”

“And Bucky?” Steve asked, looking more distraught than ever.

“He’ll find his way home when he’s ready,” Tony said, smiling tiredly down at the floor.  He could sense the disappointment in Steve even though he couldn’t see it, the frustration and anger too.  “If we showed up he’d be madder than hell and he’d say we didn’t trust him,” he said.  He looked up slowly, forcing himself to look more certain than he felt.  “And we do trust him – we can’t get in the way, even if we want to.”

Natasha and Steve were visibly unhappy by the decision but they both nodded in agreement.  The only person who seemed uninterested was Dottie.

“Are you hitching a ride with us?” Tony asked, wishing it was his aunt he was seeing and not Dottie Underhill.  Even so, they were in the middle of Siberia and he couldn’t bring himself to leave her behind – not like this.

Dottie smiled softly.  “A ride home would be lovely.”

 

 

Dottie vanished the second they landed at SHIELD’s closest base, disappearing so quickly it took Tony a minute to figure out that she had actually been sitting beside him in the first place.  A tube of lipstick was all that was left of her to be found, aside from a note left for Natasha telling her to enjoy it.

Once SHIELD had Madame Hydra back in their custody, trapped in a full-body wrap with straps and handcuffs keeping her from moving, they went home.

Pepper was waiting for them in the living room with T’Challa and Lord Stompy.  All three looked up when they entered and only T’Challa seemed unwilling to shout at them.  Pepper’s left eyebrow was twitching dangerously and Lord Stompy looked even surlier than before.

“I’m guessing this means you didn’t find Bucky,” Pepper said, her arms crossed over her chest.  Lord Stompy was perched on her lap with his back end resting on T’Challa’s knee; T’Challa didn’t seem to mind.

“He’s off hunting down Alexander Pierce,” Tony said.

Natasha sat gracefully beside Pepper, looping an arm around her shoulder.  “We didn’t come back emptyhanded.  We have Madame Hydra in custody thanks to some outside help,” she said.  “It wasn’t a wasted trip.  And we’re sorry.”

Pepper drummed her fingers on her arm.

“I’m sorry I left without saying anything,” Natasha said.  ‘It won’t happen again unless it’s an emergency.”

“It better not,” Pepper said with a scowl. 

“Did anything happen while we were gone?” Steve asked sheepishly.  He set his shield down beside the chair he sprawled onto and somehow made himself look far smaller than he was.

“Rhodey’s back,” Pepper said.

Tony grinned.  “He’s here?  Where is he?”

“He ran into Sam in the elevator,” Pepper said.  “They’re out getting coffee.”

Tony slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide.  “Oh my god,” he said.  “They’re on their first _date_!”

Pepper smirked.  “See what happens when you leave?”

Tony groaned.  “I know – I know.  I’m sorry!”

Pepper leaned forwards, nearly dislodging Lord Stompy.  “Why do you think I was so mad at you?  I couldn’t exactly call and tell you – I had to talk T’Challa’s ear off instead!”

T’Challa nodded sagely.  “We’ve both decided that Sam and Rhodey are a perfect fit – provided that they can both have a conversation instead of simply staring into each other’s eyes and interrupting each other while apologizing.”

Tony chuckled.  “That’s adorable,” he said.  “How long ago did they leave?”

“They’ve been gone for a few hours now,” Pepper said.  “They went to that all-night pancake place.”

“Should we wait up?” Tony asked, rubbing his hands together in glee.  The pain of Bucky vanishing on him again was still there but the news of Rhodey finally getting the happiness he deserved made it hurt far less.

“You’re not waiting up,” Pepper said.  “You’re going to bed.”

Tony groaned.  “But – why?”

“You’ve been awake far too long – and you promised you’d stop using Extremis all the time, remember?” Pepper said.

Tony groaned louder.  Damn it.  She was right.  He hadn’t even napped on the flight back; he had been so worried about Madame Hydra escaping he had kept his sensors on her at all times even though he had known that Steve and Natasha were doing the same damn thing.  Even now he had a window with the security footage of Madame Hydra’s new cell playing in the corner of his mind.  Grumbling to himself he pulled the footage up on the tower’s servers instead and tasked Jarvis with keeping an eye on it.  The sooner he napped, the sooner he could get up again and go back to badgering Pepper with questions about Rhodey and Sam.  He waved goodnight to Steve and stumbled into his room, leaving the door open a crack.  He was asleep the instant his body hit the mattress.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hopefully I'll have the last bit of the fic up by next week on Monday! it's all written out but I need to type it up still. Let me know if you spot anything weird and I'll fix it!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodey came home, bringing with him a gift.

Tony woke as the bed sagged unexpectedly near his feet.  He rolled over lethargically, not thinking, and face-planted into Lord Stompy’s cast with a muffled, weary, groan.  When had the cat gotten up here with him?  He didn’t remember seeing the little jerk when he had gone into his room to nap; apparently Lord Stompy was far stealthier than every other injured animal he had ever known.  Still, while Lord Stompy was heavy for a cat, he wasn’t nearly heavy enough to have moved the bed.  Who was in here with him?  He didn’t feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end so it wasn’t likely someone dangerous.

“Rhodey?” Tony said tentatively into Lord Stompy’s side.

“Did I wake you from your beauty sleep?”  Rhodey asked.  He made himself comfortable on Tony’s comforter, propping himself up against the headboard.

“I’m always _beautiful_ ,” Tony grumbled.  “Screw _you_.”

“Of course you are,” Rhodey said, patting Tony’s head.

“You back for good now?” Tony asked with a yawn, leaning into Rhodey’s touch.

“For now at least,” Rhodey said.  “They told me they needed to find more missions before they even though about sending me out, so I’m assuming I’m on my own for a while.”

“Weird,” Tony mumbled.

“I’m glad to be home,” Rhodey said with a shrug.  “I see you’ve been keeping yourself busy.  Jarvis said you got yourself into the least amount of trouble possible on your last avengers call out because someone else did all the leg work.”

“That’ some way of putting it,” Tony said.

“Who did you go after?” Rhodey asked. 

“We captured Madame Hydra,” Tony said, rolling onto his side so Lord Stompy’s cast wasn’t jabbing him in the neck.  “Well, technically _Aunt Dottie_ and Bucky caught Madame Hydra but we brought her in and sent the cleanup team so we’re going to have to take full credit – finders keepers and all.”

“How was it?” Rhodey asked.  “And where is Bucky?  I don’t see him lying in bed here with you – is he off doing something with Steve?”

“He didn’t come back,” Tony said.  “Apparently he felt he needed to get the whole set of Hydra top brass before he could come home.”

“Oh,” Rhodey said.  “Well, _shit_.”

“Yeah,” Tony said.  “Shit.”

“Did you see him at the Madame Hydra takedown at least?” Rhodey asked.

“No.  He was gone by the time we got there and _holy hell_ , I wish I could bleach my brain and un-see everything from that place,” Tony said.  “It was a fucking _mess_.  I’m pretty sure I threw up in my suit while we were showing the SHIELD agents around.”  He grimaced and rubbed at his nose, wishing away the phantom smell of blood and death that had somehow crept out of his memories and seeped into the air around him.  He never had been able to stomach scenes like that, even after being in so many as both a bystander and Avenger.  The sight of blood and gore made him queasy and while he had been too tired this time for the nightmares to creep in, he knew they were waiting for him somewhere in the dark.

“ _Lovely_ ,” Rhodey said.  He heaved a sigh.  “My mission wasn’t that great either – not that I’m telling you anything of course.  I’m just talking aloud about the hypothetical situation that may or may not have happened while I might or might not have been out doing a mission.”

“I see,” Tony said with a chuckle.

“Your Aunt Dottie was there,” Rhodey said.  “I don’t know how she found out about the place but she did and she was thorough as fuck – left nothing to chance.  By the time I freed myself from one of her traps and went to looking around to see what was going on she had ripped the place to shreds.  She left what she didn’t want and vanished.”

“She attacked you?” Tony asked, softly, hoping that he was wrong.  The thought of Dottie attacking his friends – his family – made his stomach feel like it was filled with lead.  He wasn’t so sure he could handle another betrayal, not like this.

“Technically no – I walked into a booby trap she had set for anyone coming in _after_ her,” Rhodey said.

“That doesn’t make it better,” Tony said.

“No,” Rhodey agreed.  “It doesn’t, but at least she wasn’t attacking me on purpose.  That woman must have some crazy moves – she could probably take out Cap without even batting an eyelash.”

“I don’t know whether I should be happy or terrified to hear that,” Tony said.  He had suspected that Dottie was strong but he hadn’t had proof until seeing her there in the carnage of Madame Hydra’s minions.  Now that he knew he wondered just how prepared they would be if she decided to turn her skills on them.  If she was good enough to fool Natasha and SHIELD she was good enough to take them all on.

“My hypothetical mission was to find super serum,” Rhodey said, clearing his throat.  “Crazy, right?  They thought someone had a vial of the stuff lying around in storage – I mean, it’s not super serum super serum.  It’s more like the knock-off serum Hydra gave to Bucky.  It can do things but it’s not the same specs as Erskine’s.”

“Fuck – this is bad,” Tony said.  He hadn’t heard anything through the grape vine about any hidden serum.  Who had made it?  And who, for that matter, who had been careless enough to lose the stuff?  Anyone worth their salt would have held on to it for as long as possible, so why had it been left, presumably unattended? 

“Did you find it?” Tony asked, his breath catching in his throat.

“Yes,” Rhodey said.  “I think – I think Dottie left it for me to find, actually.”  He tugged at his fingers, nervous as if he was sure that someone was listening to them.  “I couldn’t hand it over at the end of the mission,” he admitted.  “It’s uh – it’s downstairs in your workshop.”

“Oh,” Tony said.

“Yeah,” Rhodey said.  “ _Oh_.”  He put his head in his hands.  “This is fucked up, man.  Fucked up.”

“What did you tell the army about it?” Tony asked.

“I told them I didn’t find anything,” Rhodey said.  He laughed, the sound reedy and sharp.  “They’re going to throw me in jail if they ever find out – I’ll tank my career – but you know what?  It’s worth it.  Keeping it out of the wrong hands is worth my career and a thousand other people’s careers.”  He looked up with a grim smile.  “I couldn’t hand it over like a good soldier – not after meeting Cap, not after seeing what it could do.  If someone with the wrong attitude takes that serum, it could be game over.  We could end up with a new super villain worse than the Red Skull – and while I love the army, I’ve seen Bruce Banner.  I’ve been hugged by the Hulk.  I know what that kind of power can do when the person wielding it isn’t in total, _perfect_ control and while I trust the people above me, I’m not so sure they know restraint when it comes to having soldiers they can use to take over any place, any time.”

“So you brought it here?”  Tony asked, sitting up slowly.  “Why me?”

“Couldn’t take it anywhere safer,” Rhodey said.  “I figured you’d want to read the note Dottie stuck to it too but something exploded nearby and I only got a few fragments by the time I put out the fire.”

“What did it say?” Tony asked.

“Her note called it the Red Room serum and there was a few lines I could still read that made it clear that the serum was made by Howard Stark – that it’s his property and that he and Peggy would have wanted you to keep it safe,” Rhodey said.  “I’m sorry – I should have got there earlier.”

Tony’s body felt heavy, like someone was leaning against him, pushing him down.  He had known that Howard had had a hand in developing a super soldier serum; the Winter Soldier had killed him for it, after all.  He hadn’t known that Peggy was involved in its creation.  He hadn’t known that someone had made off with some of that serum after the Winter Soldier had taken him out – finding that out was like being clocked upside the head.  Did Bucky know about the stolen serum?  Had he found out from Dottie?  It seemed unlikely that she would have told Bucky anything so easily but who knew what Dottie said or did these days?  He wasn’t sure what he could trust – even if she had left him the serum for safekeeping when she could have made off with it. 

Tony booted Extremis up and breathed in and out slowly as Madame Hydra’s cell came into view. 

Was this a trap? 

Was Madame Hydra being in a SHIELD cell part of some horrible game?

Rhodey groaned.  “I think we all need a vacation after this is over,” he said.  “I need at _least_ three weeks of quiet and endless nights eating truffles to make up for all the shit we’ve seen.”

“Agreed,” Tony said.  He dove into Extremis and began assembling a new file on the serum Rhodey had brought back, too anxious to fall back asleep even though his body would have liked to drift off once more.  He needed to document everything while it was still fresh.  He wasn’t going to waste his head start – not now.

“Mission went well, mostly.  War Machine is fine, by the way, although I had a few issues with power loss,” Rhodey said.  “I didn’t really do more than scratch the paint this time around.  Most of the damage I thought I took was superficial once I got out of the traps Dottie left behind.  The suit’s down in your lab getting diagnostics run on it.”

“Good,” Tony said.  He forced himself to focus on the work at hand and locked himself out of the diagnostics calculations for an hour so he couldn’t immediately slip into War Machine’s code.  He couldn’t afford the distraction.

“I’m guessing you’re working already,” Rhodey said wryly.

“Sadly yes,” Tony said, sitting up.  “So what do we _hypothetically_ know from your mission?”

“Howard Stark is responsible for the creation of a second wonder Serum,” Rhodey said.  “His involvement with the project was listed in the hypothetical report I hypothetically read before they sent me out – but potentially there were more scientists involved that either didn’t get credit or weren’t being name dropped.  The same serum was used in two or three blacked out missions I wasn’t privileged to see – also in the hypothetical file I read before heading out.”

“Alright,” Tony said, chuckling as he took notes in his head.  “And I’m assuming you only saw paper copies of that report?”

“Exactly.  And before you ask I tried to read through the blacked-out bits using a lamp and couldn’t read anything extra.  Interestingly, the formula being in existence wasn’t in the file,” Rhodey said.  “Although there’s no guarantee they would have told me about it even if they did have it.  I’m not exactly at the top of the food chain right now.  I do know one thing for sure – they called it the Infinity Formula in person and in the file so I’m guessing that’s its actual code name.”

“Ok,” Tony said, humming to himself.  “So we have a name other than Red Room formula.  Infinity formula.”

“Yep,” Rhodey said.  “This is assuming that whoever created it called it either of those names.  For all we know the US government changed the name and it’s some other damn thing entirely.”

“True,” Tony said.  “Never can tell what scientists call things these days.”

“Pretty much,” Rhodey said.  “For now let’s just stick with calling it the Infinity Formula.  Might have more luck finding information with that name anyway considering what happened to the Red Room.”

“Ok.  So, with this formula we have the possibility of there being an instruction manual out there for creating it – although I think that’s highly unlikely there’s anything out there because your bosses were supremely interested in recovering the pre-made stuff.”

“That’s what I was thinking too,” Rhodey said, with a nod.  “You don’t go for the pre made stuff if you can make it yourself.”

“I’m also guessing that means Howard and company or whoever it was who made the serum in the first place didn’t leave notes and or took the information to their graves,” Tony said.  He carded his fingers through his greasy hair.  “Or at least I _hope_ they took it to their grave because if they didn’t we’re all pretty much fucked.”

“Morbid but yeah – that’s a fair assessment,” Rhodey said, shaking his head.  “I’d have to say everyone involved with it from back then is dead at this point – aside from your aunt.”

“Any files left lying around at all in the base you went to?” Tony asked hopefully.  “Any notice boards?  Pamphlets explaining the side effects?  I’ll take floppy disks at this point.”

“I wish.  I couldn’t find anything of use,” Rhodey said.  “The place was picked clean and whatever was there was burned to a crisp by the time I got to it.  The whole bunker looked like a set up but I have no way of confirming what was moved around or what the place looked like before your aunt got at it.  For all we know facility might have been in perfect working condition before she got there.”

Tony scowled.  Great.  More things to sift through before he could learn the truth.  “Is the place still standing?”

“No,” Rhodey said.  “I hung around to wait for the team they sent and a few minutes after they started poking around for clean up, some jackass set off another one of the traps and blew the place to bits.  Whatever was left is ashes – I’m guessing some of the bombs used were Stark Tech because they looked very familiar – it might have been old Stark Tech, though if that’s any consolation.”  He grimaced.  “I’m sorry, Tony.”

“Don’t be,” Tony said with a sigh.  “Not your fault.  Dottie had access to pretty much everything – I trusted her with my life.  If she took something, she could have done it years ago and I never would have known.”

“For the record she still seems to want to keep you safe,” Rhodey said.  “She sent you the serum, after all.”

“That’s not exactly keeping me safe,” Tony said.  “That’s putting a target on my head.”

Rhodey put his head in his hands.  “I wish that wasn’t true but you’re right.”

“There’s a target on your head now too,” Tony said with a grimace.  “Shit – ok.  I need all the footage War Machine captured.”

Rhodey chuckled darkly.  “There isn’t any.  The booby trap scrambled my sensors – I had to walk the suit out of the base before it booted back up again.  I wrote down everything I could remember seeing but most of it doesn’t help – it’s all lab equipment and junk.  All the valuable stuff was gone.”

“Not much anyone could do in that situation,” Tony said.  He put his hand on Rhodey’s shoulder and squeezed it.  “Besides, I’d rather have you here in one piece that all the Infinity formula information in the world.”

Rhodey smiled softly.  “Thanks.”

“Anything else you think we should add to the file?” Tony asked.

“Well,” Rhodey said.  “For one, if this is the same stuff that made the Winter Soldier and all those other Winter Soldiers then we really need Bucky here.”

Tony looked down at his lap.  Rhodey was right.  They did need Bucky here to decide what to do with the serum; it would be foolish to do something with it if they didn’t know what they were dealing with, and Bucky was the one person they knew who likely had the best understanding of what it did.  But how were they supposed to get him home?  Sending an email would be dangerous – it was too easily intercepted and they didn’t need anyone else finding out that they had a viable sample.  And of course Bucky hadn’t left a phone number so they couldn’t exactly call him either.

Hm.  Maybe SHIELD had something he could use.    

Tony let his mind drift into Extremis again, slipping his way through fire wall after firewall unseen as he tore through every byte of data he could get his hands; he slunk through SHIELD’s files, looking for anything that seemed even remotely related to the Winter Soldier’s current location.  Exhausting the Winter Soldier search, he moved on to the Infinity Formula.  That proved more fruitful, but only marginally so.  When he was finished, he had barely more than a sentence that contained the word Infinity Formula, but it was a start.  It was there, which meant Fury probably knew about it, and if _he_ did then they would have to be careful.  The last thing they needed was SHIELD trying to get their hands on the formula, even if they did fight on SHIELD’s side most of the time.  One government agency going after them was enough.

“So what do we do now?” Rhodey asked.  “I’m thinking we need the Avengers.”

“We definitely need the Avengers.  But I want to keep this just us – no one outside the inner circle,” Tony said.  “Someone could go after any one of us if they think we have details, and I don’t want anything leaked.  Ideally, I’d love to keep this from _everyone_ because no one can spill what they don’t know, but it’s better if we have more people looking out for anything suspicious at this point.  Jarvis and I are good at watching surveillance tapes but we can’t be the team’s eyes all the time – not if I want to sleep and eat.”

“Alright,” Rhodey said.  “And I’m guessing that means we’re going to wait for Bucky to finish his quest or whatever it is he’s doing before you spill everything.”

Tony nodded stiffly.  “For now all the team needs to know is that you came back and people may think you have super valuable tech that Hydra wants.”

“That sounds doable.  I mean, we’re both going to get in deep shit when we finally spill things but at least this way we won’t have to worry about someone unexpectedly kidnapping us – _again_ ,” Rhodey said.  “We’re going to have to tell Pepper about this thought.  If Natasha finds out and we didn’t tell Pep we’re doomed.  We’ll be elbow deep in apology cake.”

“At least we know we can trust everyone on the team.  No one is going to say anything on purpose,” Tony said.

“Not unless it’s me doing it by accident,” Rhodey said grimly.  “I don’t think I said anything that would let anyone know I have the serum but I am _your_ friend – I don’t think it’s going to matter what I say.  People will think I have it even if I don’t.”

“Good point.  Everyone interested is going to be focusing on you,” Tony said.  “You’re the last one with supposed access to the formula.  I’m kind of surprised someone from SHIELD hasn’t tried to invite you out for a friendly chat over coffee yet to poke around in your head.”

Rhodey winced.  “I need to call my mom – get someone there for protection,” he said.  “I know she can take care of herself but I don’t need any more stories from her about how she beat up another ‘burglar’ who tried to rob the place.  Once was enough.”

“I sent a message to Fury about that already,” Tony said.  “He’s going to make sure no one gets near her.  I told him it was official Avengers business and I’m pretty sure he bought it – or at least, he was fine with lending a hand to keep her safe.”  He cleared his throat and steepled his fingers.  “I know you’re going to be mad at me for this but uh, I’ve kind of had her under surveillance ever since we got kidnapped.  Jarvis and I have been bad.”

Rhodey squinted at Tony.  “What did you do?”

“It’s nothing invasive, I swear,” Tony said, smiling sheepishly.  “I just have Jarvis keeping an eye on things in her area and outside her house.  I was keeping tabs – you know, making sure no one suspicious was keeping an eye on her too.”

“I don’t think she’d be all that mad about _you_ keeping tabs on her,” Rhodey said, heaving a sigh.  “She’s probably going to want to bake you cookies.”

“Oh please,” Tony said with a snort.  “She’s your mom – she loves you.  She’ll be sending you all the cookies she makes.”

“Oh, I’m not saying I won’t have my weight in cookies here now that I’m off duty.  I’m just saying she probably won’t yell at you and threaten to ground you when she finds out what happened. H _ilarious_.  Yes I know – don’t laugh, you jackass,” Rhodey grumbled.

Tony grinned.  “She still tries to ground you?  That’s sweet.”

“I think she’s just gotten too used to saying it,” Rhodey said.  “I don’t know – I guess things will be fine.  She’s been happy with you checking in on her before when I asked, and you and I both know that you, me and Pep make sure we keep an eye on family when things get rough.  It’s more of the whole me getting myself into trouble again thing that worries me.  If anyone is going to get her wrath, it’s going to be _me_.  She hates death threats but she _really_ hates it when I bring work home with me, even if it is by accident,” Rhodey said.  “She may threaten to come live with me so she can keep me out of trouble.”

“You haven’t made any contact with her yet?” Tony asked.

“No,” Rhodey said.  “I came here first after I turned in my report.  I haven’t even taken a nap yet – or a shower.”

“Alright,” Tony said.  “The less contact you have with her right now the better.  They won’t use her for information if they don’t think she has any.”

“They could still kidnap her,” Rhodey said with a growl.

“And we’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Tony said, squeezing Rhodey’s shoulder again.  “The first sign that something’s up we’ll bring her in here and she can stay at the tower.  We could bring her in now though if you want – your mom, your call.”

“If we bring her in now it’ll look like I do have information,” Rhodey grumbled.  “Damn it!  This could have happened even if I did hand the serum over.  I am so damned tired of things like this happening after secret missions!”

“On the bright side, your super handsome boyfriend is in the tower right now so you don’t have to worry about _him_ getting into any trouble,” Tony said, elbowing Rhodey in the side.

Rhodey let out a startled laugh.  “Oh god – Sam.  What’s he going to think about this mess?”

“He’ll be fine,” Tony said.  “He’s an Avenger.  He gets what we go through – he’s the last person who’s going to give you shit about it.”

“Can I be the one to tell him about this?” Rhodey asked.

“Sure,” Tony said.  “We can hold a team meeting whenever you’re ready.”

“What about Bucky?” Rhodey asked.

“I’ll talk about it with him when he gets back,” Tony said.  “Not much I can do until we’ve got a safe way to communicate without being overheard.”

“You sure you don’t want to use the serum to get him home faster?” Rhodey asked.  “I mean, Madame Hydra was a good catch, and Pierce will be too but that serum is way more dangerous if someone figures out how to duplicate it.”

“I don’t know,” Tony said with a shrug.  “It feels like a dick move telling him just to get him home.”

“It’s not,” Rhodey said.  “It’s a smart move.”

“He might not see it that way,” Tony muttered.

“Alright – then he finds out with the rest of the team,” Rhodey said.  “Did he tell you where he was going?”

“Nope.  But he did send me a wonderfully tasteful picture of himself,” Tony said.  He waggled his eyebrows.  “Want to see?”    

“No thank you,” Rhodey said.  “I do not want to see your boyfriend’s ass.”

“I said _tasteful_ ,” Tony grumbled.

“Tony,” Rhodey said, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “We both know you.  Tasteful means many different things to you.”

Tony grinned.  “Ok – fine.  I was going to print the picture anyway – maybe hang it in my bedroom.”

“Oh god,” Rhodey said.  “It’s a full frontal picture isn’t it?  Wait don’t tell me – I don’t want to know.”

“You’re so cruel,” Tony said.  “You sure you don’t want to see it?”

“As good looking as he is, no.  I’d never be able to look him in the eye again,” Rhodey said.  “And I know you’re kidding.  So stop being a butthead.”

Tony chuckled.  “I wasn’t going to show you anyway – or print it.  But it was a nice thought.”

“Uh huh,” Rhodey said.  “I’m sure it keeps you warm at night.  Do with it what you must.”

“I will,” Tony said, nodding gravely.

“He’s talking to you, though – that’s good, right?”  Rhodey said.

“The last response I got was an auto-generated email he made for when he ran out of pictures to send,” Tony admitted.  “I’m kinda – I’m a _little_ worried.”  He gripped the blanket, rolling it in his hands.  In truth, a little worried was putting it mildly.  He was terrified that something had happened to Bucky but he didn’t know if there was anything he could do.  There was no tracker to follow even if he would follow Bucky anywhere.

“Well,” Rhodey drawled.  “If you want to lure him back out you could always start sending _him_ some nudes of your own.”

Tony locked his eyes with Rhodey.  “Honeybear,” he said, “Are you suggesting I send naked pictures over the internet?”

“I might be,” Rhodey said.  “I might be offering to help you.”

Tony grinned, all teeth.  “You’re serious – oh my god you’re serious!”  He rubbed his hands together.  He had been telling himself over and over again not to send naked pictures in case they made Bucky run home – or away, but at the moment it seemed like the perfect plant to check if Bucky was alive and safe.  Sure, if Bucky opened the email and saw the pictures while out in public he might have a hard time dealing with how tight his pants became but it would be a small price to pay to know that Bucky was alright if it got him a response email.  Rhodey was a _genius_.

“I’ll sacrifice my eyeballs,” Rhodey said.  “Sam was the one who suggested you sending pictures, actually.  Steve’s been moping around and Sam blames Bucky – so Bucky needs to suffer somehow.”

Tony groaned and flopped backwards, glaring up at the ceiling, his legs dangling off the side of the bed.  He had been hoping to avoid thinking about Steve for a few more minutes.  He would rather have heard more questions about the serum down in his workshop.  He didn’t want to think about how short his time with Bucky would be when he and Steve got back together.

“What’s wrong?” Rhodey asked, slowly.  “You look like I just punched you in the balls.”

“I do not,” Tony grumbled.  “You’ve never punched me in the balls.  How would you know what I look like when you do that if you’ve never done it before?”

“I know what your sad face looks like, and while I haven’t been the one to kick you in the balls I watched that girl at MIT sock it to you,” Rhodey said, flatly, crossing his arms over his chest.  “Stop faking happiness – what’s wrong?”

“I’m actively not thinking about something,” Tony said through gritted teeth.  “Nothing is wrong.  Yet.”

“I see,” Rhodey said.  “Is this something big?”

“Possibly – possibly not,” Tony said, forcing a smile that made his face hurt.  “Really – it’s nothing.  Let’s take dirty pictures of me!”

“Oh _god_ – don’t say it like that,” Rhodey said.

“We can take some of you for Sam if you want,” Tony offered.

“We’re not quite there yet,” Rhodey said, cheeks going faintly pink, “But uh – I’ll think about it.”

 

 

The first set of Rhodey’s pictures made Tony smile for real.  Every picture was perfect.  Rhodey didn’t seem to think so, but Tony wasn’t going to agree with him no matter how much he protested.

Halfway through the next set of pictures Lord Stompy joined them and made himself the star of the day by knocking the phone from Rhodey’s hands and making off with it in his teeth.  They retrieved the phone with only slight embarrassment.  Neither T’challa nor Pepper seemed concerned or confused by Tony running mostly naked through the living room with Rhodey at his heels, although they did suggest that someone close the door next time as they watched the pair chase Lord Stompy around the couch.  That made Tony smile for real.

Rhodey held the camera up when he had wrestled it free, victorious and waited for Tony to return to the bedroom before closing the door carefully behind him so they could get back to work.

 

Finally satisfied with the pictures, Rhodey went to the kitchen to make them a snack.

Tony assembled an email telling Bucky to hurry home when he was ready if he wanted to see everything in person and then deleted everything but the picture.  He hit send.  If this didn’t get Bucky’s attention, then nothing would. 

 

 

Tony was dozing in his workshop as Jarvis ran the Infinity Formula through the scanners when he jerked awake with an ungodly snort that hurt his throat.  He blinked blearily and looked around.  Dummy had poked him in the side and there was a post-it stuck to his claw. 

“What’s going on?” Tony slurred, rubbing at his watery eyes.

“I believe Colonel Rhodes has given Dummy a message for you,” Jarvis said.

Tony stared down at the note, baffled.  “What?”

“Colonel Rhodes was trying to placate Dummy after he refused to accept a smoothie that was offered to him,” Jarvis said. 

“I was,” Rhodey called out from the doorway.  “He’s doing me a favor because he’s a good boy.”

Tony gave his head a shake.  “You couldn’t wake me yourself?”

“It’s more fun this way,” Rhodey said, heaving himself onto the couch.  He grimaced and pulled a wrench out from under the pillow he had landed on.  “Do you always keep tools with the cushions?”

“Only when you’re here,” Tony said.

Rhodey patted the seat beside him.

“Alright, alright,” Tony grumbled.  He sank down into the couch beside Rhodey, eyelids still heavy, and leaned against the arm of the couch to try and keep himself upright and awake.  “What’s up?”

“I want to take Sam on a date,” Rhodey said. 

“Alright,” Tony said, slowly.  “What do you need me to do?”

“I know it’s only been a day since I’ve been back,” Rhodey said.  “But I uh – I want to do something special for him.”

“I know I’m an obvious hunk with a huge check book, so what do you need me to do?” Tony asked.

Rhodey wrinkled his nose.  “First I need you to shower,” he said.

Tony cocked an eyebrow.  “How does _me_ showering help you and Sam go on a date?”

“I was thinking of doing this as date night,” Rhodey said.  “Seeing as how I can’t really go wandering off without someone keeping an eye on me.”

“I see,” Tony said with a laugh.  He hadn’t expected to be heading out on Rhodey’s first date with Sam – or rather, he had but he had expected to be sitting in a booth with Pepper a few tables away while they kept an eye on things.  “Who else are we bringing?”

“Pepper,” Rhodey said.  “Because I know you and her were going to be stalking me the entire time anyway.”

“I’m assuming that means we’re taking Natasha too then?” Tony asked, batting his eyelashes.  “Because you said date night so we need a few more people than just me and Pepper.”

“I was thinking it would be me, Sam, Pepper, Natasha, you and uh, Steve,” Rhodey said.

Tony’s insides felt like they had frozen.  “Steve,” he said, clearing this throat.  “You want me and Steve to be your other couple?”

“I know – it’s weird,” Rhodey said, quickly, “If you don’t want to go with Steve we can get someone else.”

“No, no,” Tony said, quickly.  “Steve’s fine – Steve’s great.  I don’t have any problem with Steve – it’s not a real date anyway.  It’ll just be the two of us talking and watching out for the rest of you guys.  We can have Thor and Clint do exterior security and Steve and I can handle interior.  It’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Rhodey asked.  “Because I don’t want to make you go through a dinner from hell.  I just figured having Steve around would make you feel less left out when the rest of us are paired up.”

“It’ll be fine,” Tony insisted, smiling stiffly.  “What’s the worst that could happen?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if you spot anything funky and I'll fix it! : ) Thanks in advance and sorry about the long wait in between updates!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony had promised to help and he would help if it was the last thing he ever did

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I last updated! I got really busy around christmas when I was going to post this but I finally managed to find more time so I got as much as I could up before I nodded off at my computer :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“Why do you smell like vomit?” Rhodey asked, ushering Tony through the living room and into Tony’s shower. 

“It’s not vomit,” Tony said primly.  “That’s old protein drink.  Dummy knocked it on me.”

“How the hell did you sit there smelling like that?” Rhodey asked in exasperation.  “Please go shower.”

“Fine,” Tony said.  “Do you want me to look good good or regular good?”

“You don’t have to dress up, but please don’t wear one of those goddamned oversized sun hats you and Pepper bought for the beach last year,” Rhodey said.

“They’re good for keeping the press away,” Tony whined.

“They’re good for making the press think you’re starting a new fashion trend and I don’t think the world is ready for that many sunhats,” Rhodey said dryly.

“Fine,” Tony grumbled.  “No sunhats.”  He pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it onto the floor as he shuffled his way into his bathroom.  He paused at the door, hanging off of the door frame.  “Am I allowed to wear good clothing or my sweat pants?”

“You can wear whatever you want so long as the words Juicy are not on your ass,” Rhodey said.

“That was one time!” Tony said.

“One time too many,” Rhodey said, sitting down on Tony’s bed.

“So what are you going to wear?” Tony called out.

“No idea,” Rhodey said.

Tony jerked himself half out of the bathroom, holding on to the door frame again.  “You don’t know?”

“I haven’t decided,” Rhodey said.  “It’s - I don’t have a whole lot of stuff to choose from.”

“Check my closet – the one on the lefthand side by the closet where I keep my fancy running shoes,” Tony said.  He disappeared into the bathroom and hurriedly shucked his pants and underwear, getting into the shower before he could find any other distractions.  While he liked teasing Rhodey, he knew how much the date with Sam meant to him and he wasn’t going to fuck it up.  If he did, he would never forgive himself.

When he emerged from the shower fifteen minutes later, having scrubbed the protein shake from his skin, he found Rhodey staring into the closet he had directed him to with his mouth open and his eyes wide.

“Too much?” Tony asked, towel still wrapped around his waist.  He had been collecting suits, dress shirts and everything in-between for Rhodey as this year’s Christmas gift and all of what was in the closet was tailor-made – he’d had Rhodey’s measurements on file from War Machine’s readouts, and he’d taken advantage of it.  Pepper had actually been pretty proud of him for that, although she had warned him if he tried to get her a closet full of dresses again she would smack him.  One would be fine – twenty six would not be fine this time.

“How in the hell did you find so many things that fit me exactly?” Rhodey asked, holding up a pair of pants to his waist.  “Did you measure me in my sleep again?”

“Not this time,” Tony said.  “The casual stuff is on the right, the fancy dress stuff is on the left.”  He scuttled over to his own closet and sorted through the sweat pants he knew looked good enough to be mistaken for low end dress pants.  Pepper had bought him a half a dozen of them after he had been caught on camera wearing them.  Apparently his ass had made the company stock gain points.

“Thank you,” Rhodey said, softly.

“Not a problem,” Tony said, moving on to shirts.  “Am I allowed to wear a t-shirt?”

“Yes,” Rhodey said.  “But nothing rude.”

“Define rude,” Tony said with a drawl.

“You are not allowed to wear any shirt that has a character mooning someone – and nothing with the middle finger on it,” Rhodey said.

“Even if it’s a fuck Fox News shirt?” Tony asked.

“Even if it’s a fuck Fox News shirt,” Rhodey said, scowling.  He pulled a shirt from the closet and shook his head.  “How the hell did you find shirts that make my chest look this good?”

“I’m a genius, remember?” Tony said with a grin.  He pulled an Oscar the Grouch shirt from the pile of acceptable shirts he had gathered and smirked at it.  At least he could be tastefully rude.  “Go get dressed,” he said.  “I still need to trim my beard so I don’t look like I’ve been living in the woods for a month.”

“Your beard is fine,” Rhodey said.  “I’m the one who needs to shave.  I feel like my chin is covered in sandpaper.  Damn it!  I haven’t been this nervous since MIT.”

“You’ll be fine,” Tony said, patting Rhodey’s shoulder.  “Everyone is going to be on their best behavior – although Sam seems like he can get rowdy when he wants to if what Natasha says is true.”

“I’m not worried about our behavior,” Rhodye said, heaving a sigh.  “I’m worried we’ll all get food poisoning and spend the rest of the night having the most unpleasant time in the history of all dates possible.”

“No one is going to get food poisoning,” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

“Sam and I have both had food poisoning,” Rhodey said, putting his head in his hands.  “Oh god what if we get it again?”

“No one is getting food poisoning,” Tony said firmly.  “You two both eat army food.  If anyone has a lead stomach, it’s you two.”

Rhodey smiled tiredly up at Tony.  “Whatever you say.”

“Good – it’s settled then,” Tony said.  “I’m going to go trim my beard and you’re going to get dressed.”

“You don’t need to trim your beard,” Rhodey said.  “Got a spare razor stashed somewhere so I can trim mine?”

“Yes,” Tony said, squinting at Rhodey.  “But you’re not stopping me from trimming my beard, heathen.  If I want to look good for my fake date, I will look good for my fake date.”

Rhodey chuckled.  “Trying to look good for Steve?”

Tony let out a barked laugh.  “Yeah – _sure_.”

“I don’t think you to try too hard,” Rhodey said with a snort.  “He already likes the look of you.”

Tony frowned.  “What?”

“Ignore me,” Rhodey said, holding up the shirt he had chosen up.  “I’m on a clothing high.”

Tony chuckled.  “Alright – but don’t think I’ll forget what you said.”

“Forget what?” Rhodey asked, sweetly, all fake innocence despite the grin on his face.

“Steve Rogers does not like me,” Tony said.  “And even if he did have _horrible_ taste, I’m not on the market.”

“Of course not,” Rhodey said.  “But that doesn’t mean he can’t think you look good.”

“I’m not dressing up for Steve,” Tony said, stiffly. 

“Of course not.  You’re dressing up for Bucky,” Rhodey said, his smile turning evil.  “Imagine how much it will twist Barnes shorts if he sees you out there looking fine with all of your friends on a triple date – fake or not.  He’s going to take one look at you in those sweat pants and come running for you from across the ocean or wherever the hell he is.”

Tony laughed.  “And how exactly will he see any of this magical date of yours?”

“I will be taking pictures,” Rhodey said.  “And Jarvis will be emailing them to him.”

“I see,” Tony said.  “Guess I’d better find myself some better underwear in case my pants accidentally fall down.”

“I did not need to know that,” Rhodey said.

“There’s some nice undies in there for you too if you want them,” Tony said, gesturing to the closet.

Rhodey scowled at him and then begrudgingly bent down and began searching through the rest of the closet.  “I hate you, you know that right?” he called out, his head in the closet.

“I hate you too sweetheart,” Tony yelled back.

 

 

Tony swallowed around the lump in his throat.  He stared blankly at the restaurant Rhodey had chosen for his and Sam’s first date.  They were at The Crouton, the same restaurant Tony had wanted to take Bucky to for their first date; the sight of it made his stomach twist in a way that was both unpleasant and one step away from making him want to burst out laughing.

“You ok?” Rhodey asked.  Sam was pressed up against him, but his gaze was on Tony and he seemed concerned.  Everyone seemed concerned, now that Tony thought about it.

“I’m fine,” Tony said, forcing himself to smile.  “Familiar place, that’s all.  No big deal.”

“Right,” Sam said, looking between Tony and the restaurant.

“Natasha took me here on our first date,” Pepper said, smiling.  “I recommended it to Rhodey.”

“Yeah,” Tony said.  “I know.”

“You’ve been here before?” Pepper asked.

“Virtually,” Tony said with a shrug.  “It was one of the places I was going to take Bucky.”

Rhodey’s eyes widened; Pepper’s smile froze.

“It’s fine,” Tony lied.  “I wasn’t going to use it for our first date – I was going to go for something a little quieter.”

“You’re such a bad liar sometimes,” Sam said.  “Seriously – we don’t have to go in.  We can go somewhere else.”  He slipped his arm around Rhodey’s waist.  “I’m happy going anywhere and I know Rhodey is too.”

“It’s fine,” Tony said, squirming in his seat, unhappy with the sudden attention.  “I am a grown man capable of having dinner in a restaurant I was thinking about taking Bucky to – we don’t need to go anywhere.”

“You sure?” Rhodey asked.

“I am fine,” Tony said through his teeth.  “It’ll be fine.  The menu looked good – and besides, Clint and Thor are outside waiting to guard us.  It’s kinda rude if we decide to change plans when they’ve so thoughtfully set up shop already.”

“As long as you’re alright with it,” Rhodey said.

“It’s your date night,” Tony said.  “I’m just here as your _bodyguard_.”  He pouted and batted his eyelashes at Rhodey.  “Don’t take that away from me.”

“Alright, alright,” Rhodey grumbled, reaching for the door before Sam could.  “Your dinner awaits.”

“You could think of this as a trial dinner,” Steve murmured, leaning closer to Tony as they slid out the other side of the car.  “You can find all the good things and make sure Bucky tries them when he’s back.”

“Sure,” Tony said, all smiles again even though his stomach was still trying to torment him.  “Sounds like a good plan.” 

The streets were bustling with people as they walked into the restaurant, but Tony wasn’t worried about being ambushed; Thor was perched on the edge of the building to their left, watching everything serenely with Mjolnir sitting beside him in easy reach.  Anyone who wanted to attack them would be fried instantly.  Tony couldn’t see Clint, but he knew that the archer was probably in an equally useful position somewhere out of sight.

Rhodey held the door open for Sam, grinning, and then let Steve take his place so he could lead the group inside.

The restaurant was packed; every table was filled and if they hadn’t had a reservation they might not have even been able to get in without a long wait even with Tony’s charm and ability to slip people money.  They followed the hostess to their seats in the back and settled quickly before anyone could get in their way with Natasha and Steve bookending their group. 

Tony sat down, weary already and found himself squished in between Natasha and Pepper.  He let out a grumbled whine, annoyed more that he was intruding on their space than out of actual irritation and promptly shut up when Pepper elbowed him.

“Looks good in here,” Steve said, sitting down across from Tony with Rhodey and Sam beside him.

“I didn’t notice anything out of the usual,” Natasha agreed, stretching and glancing around the restaurant.  “I’m guessing Clint and Thor are going to have a couple of very boring hours on their hands.”

Pepper smiled.  “Good,” she said.  “I was getting tired of having to fight my way out of places.”

Natasha grinned at Pepper.  “You’ll have to wait to try out the new throws I taught you.”

“Sadly,” Pepper said with a chuckle.  She leaned against Tony, her shoulder warm against his even though his sweater.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Tony said, putting on his fakest smile.  “Why?” 

“You’re stiff as a board,” Pepper said.

“I’m hungry,” Tony said with a shrug.  It was only half a lie, really.  He was hungry, but it wasn’t all that that was making him uncomfortable; he was one step away from exhaustion and his stomach was churning as every last bit of anxiety inside him threatened to break free.  He hated that he was here, out having fun when Bucky was out there somewhere in the world doing things that could get him killed – things that could get him killed all alone, with no way of them finding his body.  Tony was tired – oh so tired – of being in the back seat while everyone else lived their lives.  All he wanted to do was go on with _his_ life, to live that last little bit of his relationship with Bucky if that was what was to come.  He would cherish those moments and if they were short, he would cherish them all the more.   He rested his chin on his palm, elbow braced against the table and glanced down at the menu in front of him, pretending to read it even though he had gone over the menu at least ten times while trying to pick if it was a good place to take Bucky for their first date.

Natasha leaned her shoulder against Tony.  “What are you going to get?”

“Don’t know,” Tony said.

“Liar,” Natasha said, nudging him with her elbow.  “Pick something you wouldn’t want to try with Barnes.  It’ll be easier that way.”

Tony winced and glanced over at Rhodey, hoping that he and Sam hadn’t heard Natasha’s comment.  Thankfully the pair were too busy staring into each other’s eyes to notice that anything had happened on the other side of the table.  Unfortunately, _Steve_ had noticed, and if there was anything more terrifying than having Rhodey notice something was wrong, it was having Steve notice.  The poor guy looked like a giant golden retriever wondering why his tennis ball had disappeared.

“I’ll be adventurous then,” Tony said.  “I’ll get the Beef Dip.”

Natasha let out a snort and leaned harder against Tony’s shoulder.  “That’s not _adventurous_.”

“But it’s satisfying,” Tony said.  “I think I’d rather have something I can sink my teeth into and devour without being judged.  After all, if there’s food stuck to my face I’d rather do that with you jerks around me.”

“I’m sure Bucky wouldn’t mind a little food splatter,” Pepper said, slipping her arm around Tony’s waist.  “He seems like a relaxed kind of guy when he’s not off hunting down war criminals.”

“He’d probably just lick whatever it is splattered on you off your face,” Natasha drawled.

Tony put his head in his hands.  “Oh my god,” he said.  “You are horrible people.”

“Two horrible people who care about you,” Pepper said, squeezing Tony’s waist.

“Thanks mom,” Tony muttered.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Pepper said, pressing a kiss to Tony’s cheek.  Her lipstick left a bright red stain there on his cheek and she smiled approvingly at it.

“ _Pepper_ ,” Tony whined.  It didn’t really bother him to have her lipstick on him but he enjoyed annoying her by pretending that it did.

“Don’t worry,” Pepper said.  “It’ll keep the ladies away.”

Tony crossed his arms over his chest scowling.

“And Steve will keep the dudes away so now you’re covered,” Natasha said, patting Tony on the shoulder.

Steve’s ears went beet red.  “ _What_?”

Natasha grinned at Steve, all teeth, like a great white shark waiting to take a bite out of a juicy hunk of meat.  “You’re his bodyguard for the night, Captain,” she said.  “Pepper and I are supposed to be on a date – remember?”

“I – well – yes,” Steve stuttered.  “Wait.  What’s going on?”

Natasha patted Tony’s shoulder.  “You’re going to sit in the table behind us,” she said.  “You two decided you need alone time.”

Tony gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down the side of his face.  “We only have the one table,” he said.  “I know you guys think I can do anything but I only booked the one table.”

“Oh, no,” Natasha said.  “Our reservation was for _two_ tables – didn’t you hear when I asked if everything was ready?  They’re just making room for us.”

“What?” Tony said, baffled.  “But I didn’t reserve two tables.  I know I didn’t.”  He could have sworn he was listening when they had walked up to the hostess, but apparently he hadn’t been paying as good attention as he had thought.  He was about to dive into Extremis to see if he could figure out what had happened when Pepper poked him in the cheek and shook her head. 

“No reviewing footage,” Pepper said.  “Remember?  No Extremis on date night.”

Tony scowled.  “I _know_ I didn’t reserve two tables,” he insisted with a huff.

“You didn’t, but I did,” Natasha said.  “You’re going to be keeping an eye on us, and it’ll be easier to do if you’re nearby and not sitting in our laps.”  She scooted out of the way and stood, pushing her chair out of the way before tugging gently on Tony’s arm.  “And oh look!  Your table is ready,” she said, nodding to the table behind them where a server stood nervously waiting for them.

Steve rose slowly, nearly tipping his chair over to get to Tony’s side.  “Let’s go sit down,” he said.  “No use fighting it.”

Natasha sat down and pulled her chair back up to the table.  “Keep it tame, boys,” she said waving good bye.

“We’ll try to do the same,” Pepper said, smiling sweetly at Tony, her arm slipping around Natasha’s waist.

Tony muttered to himself as he sat down at their new table.  He had to admit Natasha had made a good decision, even if she had been a jackass.  From his new seat he could see far more of the doorway and kitchen entrance than he would have otherwise, and if someone did try to attack them they would be able to jump to action before anyone else noticed.  Not that Rhodey and Sam were paying attention at all.  The two looked like they were one step away from gluing their lips together and learning to breathe through their ears.  He was happy for them of course – but seeing them together, so _happy_ , so damned in _love_ , made him ache for Bucky. 

Damn it. 

He was supposed to be on guard duty, not moping duty.

Tony glanced down at the menu their sever handed him, trying not to look directly at Steve who was staring down at his own menu with laser-like precision as though he would be expected to take a test on everything he read.  It was cute.  Stupid, cute _Steve_.

“What do you want to order?” Tony asked.

“Not sure,” Steve said.  “I need to think about it.  There’s a lot of options here I wasn’t expecting.”

“Alright,” Tony said, turning his attention to the restaurant around them.  He rested his elbow on the table and set his chin back in his palm.  Well, there were worse ways to spend the night.  At least he’d be able to grab a bite to eat here and the company wasn’t bad even if he was spending more time with Steve than was probably good for him.  He scanned the crowd in the dining room but didn’t recognize anyone.  They were with strangers, which was both comforting and disconcerting.  He hadn’t really been out and about for anything other than work since Bucky had left and now that he thought about it, he hadn’t really had anything that wasn’t take-out in even longer than that.  Maybe it was a good thing they were here – at least he was getting practice being outside again.  It felt like forever since he had just been outside. 

“Anything new happening?” Steve asked, flipping his menu over.

“Here?  No,” Tony said.  “Aside from the new table, nothing’s changed.”

“I meant with Bucky,” Steve said.

“Oh,” Tony said.  He shrugged.  “Nothing new to report there.  He’s doing his thing and I’m doing my best to keep from tracking him down like a naughty child in the supermarket.”

Steve smiled.  “That’s good.  I was a little worried after all that code word talk from your aunt.”

Tony’s throat went dry.  The code words.  _Shit_.  Great.  He had been so wonderfully ignoring the existence of Bucky’s code words and now all the worry he had been blocking out had come rushing back in like he had been struck in the side of the head with a sledgehammer.  Damn it Steve!  Why had he had to bring it up now?  It wasn’t like they hadn’t been able to talk before now!

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Steve said quickly, seeming to notice what he had done.  “I just wanted an update.  It kinda felt like you were avoiding me.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” Tony croaked.  He cleared his throat and gave his head a shake.  “its fine – everything is fine.”  Dottie had said Bucky was himself, and while he wasn’t sure he could trust her these days he knew that she hadn’t willingly gone after him yet and that had to count for something.  He trusted that if she wanted to hurt him, she would have done it already.  She knew it would have crushed him to find out that Bucky wasn’t fine and she hadn’t lied to him as far as he could tell.  Bucky was fine – Bucky was in control of everything, working from his secret plan and he was fine.  Yes.  Bucky was _fine_.

“He’s good at surviving,” Steve said.  “Don’t worry about him.  He’ll be alright.”

“I’m not worrying,” Tony said.  “And I wasn’t avoiding you.  I was busy – I have work.  I do things aside from worrying about my boyfriend you know.”

“You look like I dumped a bucket of white paint over your head,” Steve said.  “If you’re not worried then something is seriously wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong,” Tony snapped.  “I was working and I wasn’t avoiding you.  Now shut up.”

Steve cocked an eyebrow.  “Am I being a lousy date?”

Tony bristled.  “Don’t say that.”

“Sorry,” Steve said.

“Stop being a distraction, Rogers,” Tony said with a growl, his shoulders tensing.  “We’re supposed to be bodyguards not catching up.”

“Sorry,” Steve said, his cheeks flushing.  “That wasn’t – I didn’t think it was a date.  I was just making a joke, that’s all.”

“Good,” Tony said.  “Because the only date I’m going to be having here is one with Bucky.”

“Right,” Steve said, nodding quickly.

Tony sighed and rubbed at his eyes.  He scowled when he remembered that his cheek still had Pepper’s lipstick on it and scowled even harder when he saw that the napkins were cloth and not the disposable kind.  So much for wiping the lipstick off. His mother had raised him better than to use a cloth napkin to wipe off lipstick.  His father wouldn’t have given a shit, but his mother would have given him the dirty look of all dirty looks if he even so much as dared to mime wiping anything on one.

“Do you know what you want?” Steve asked tentatively, tapping away at his menu with his thumb.  “I think I’ll have the Beef Dip.  I’ve never had one before.”

“Really?” Tony said.  “I figured you’d have tried pretty much everything by now.  Natasha’s big on pub food.”

“I’ve been working my way through the familiar things,” Steve said.  “Haven’t gotten around to everything yet.”  He smiled and waved at the closest server, the man who had seated them, his smile bright as the sun.  “I think we’re ready to order.”

“Sorry – we’re a little slammed right now.  I’ll send your sever right over,” the man said, vanishing into the crowd.

Their server turned out to be a woman with dark hair and decidedly careful make-up that made her look like she wasn’t wearing any at all.  She inched closer to their table holding her notepad in front of her chest like it might protect her somehow.  She shifted from foot to foot, looking between Tony and Steve, silent.

“We’ll have two Beef Dips,” Steve said.  He glanced over at Tony.  “Fries ok for you?”

“Fries are fine,” Tony said.

“Two Beef Dips with fries,” the waitress repeated, scribbling everything down quickly.  She was about to spring away from them when Steve flipped the drink menu over; she ended up doing a bounce in place instead of the likely sprint she wanted as she waited for him to finish his order. 

“I’ll have an ice tea,” Steve said, seemingly oblivious to their server’s discomfort.

“I’ll have an ice coffee,” Tony said, glancing between Steve and the server.  “Cream and sugar – vanilla flavored if you’ve got that.”

Their server scribbled madly, half hiding her face behind the notepad.  She waited a moment to see if they had anything else to add to their order and then bolted, dodging and weaving her way through the crowd and around the other servers as if being chased.

“Is that a good sign or a bad one?” Tony asked, watching their server’s flight.

“I’m not quite sure,” Steve said.  “Could be she’s worried she’ll messed up the order but who knows.”

“Fantastic,” Tony grumbled.  “I told Rhodey I should have worn a sun hat.  Maybe she recognized us.”

Steve chuckled.  “Because that wouldn’t draw attention at all,” he said.

“Definitely not,” Tony agreed.  He stacked their menus together and frowned.  “She was in such a rush she left these behind.”

“Probably not a huge deal,” Steve said, pushing the menus over to the side of the table they weren’t using.  He glanced around again slowly as if admiring the pictures of flowers adorning the walls and then returned to not quite locking eyes with Tony.  “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.  I don’t see any changes – no one tensed up when she vanished.  She’s probably just behind on sending in her orders or worried about the tip.”

Tony sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.  He rested his hands on the table so he could fiddle with the spoon nearest him, annoyed that everything was making him suspicious.  “Hopefully that’s all it is.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Steve said.  He reached out and gently patted Tony on the hand.

The touch shot through Tony like a jolt of electricity; he jerked his hand away, fingers tingling and coughed, to cover his surprise, smiling sheepishly at Steve.  Shit.  He hadn’t meant to yank his hand away like that – it was just a reassuring pat, after all – but Steve’s hands were so warm and, well, no one had touched him like that aside from Pepper and Rhodey.

“Sorry,” Steve said, his words soft so only Tony could hear them.  “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Its fine,” Tony said, weary all over again.  “Seriously – stop making me say that.”

Steve sighed.

“And stop _sighing_ ,” Tony grumbled.  “I know it’s a huge disappointment for us both that we’re not here on a date but suck it up.  We have a job to do.”

“Right,” Steve said, quirking a smile.  He glanced around the restaurant again, running his tongue over his teeth and then began rearranging his cutlery, inspecting each piece.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked, trying hard not to laugh.

“I’m getting ready for food,” Steve said.

“Is that what you normally do?” Tony asked.

“I’m also using my spoon to check who’s behind me,” Steve said.

“Natasha taught you well,” Tony chuckled. 

“Bucky taught me that one, actually,” Steve said.  “Back when we were still kids we used to peek around corners like that.  Saw it in a spy comic.”

“That’s cute,” Tony said.  “Sounds like fun.”

“Bucky was always better at it than I was,” Steve said.  “I used to get caught all the time by my Ma.”

Tony grinned.  He could imagine how weird it would look for a mother to catch their son creeping around corners with a spoon in front of them trying to be stealthy.  It was cute to think that Bucky had probably done the same thing.

Their server returned with their drinks on a tray just as Tony was about to ask when exactly Bucky had practiced his stealth-spy-spoonmanship.  She set everything down gently, clearing her throat and smiled, the look stiff and just bordering on unpleasantly fake-happy.

“How’s your date going?  Is this your first time here?” their server asked.

Tony blinked.  What?  Date?  With who?

Steve went bright red.  “We’re not – this isn’t a date,” he said.  “We’re just friends.”

“Oh,” their server said, going faintly pink herself.  “I’m sorry – I just assumed – really sorry – it’s just you came in with those other couples and I thought you were all here on dates.”

“Nope,” Tony said.  “Not on a date.”

“Not that I wouldn’t date him,” Steve said quickly.  He seemed to realize what he had said and then stared in horror at their server, his mouth slightly open.  “I mean – that’s not what I meant to say.  He’s dating someone.”

“Really,” their server said, holding her round drink tray up in front of her like a shield.  “It’s fine – I’m really sorry.  I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

“It’s fine,” Tony said, sliding his ice coffee closer to him so he could take a sip of it and avoid answering any more awkward questions.  Surprisingly the ice coffee wasn’t an additional heap of crap on his already shitty day.  He glanced over his shoulder at Pepper but couldn’t make eye contact with her or anyone else; they were all too busy holding hands with their significant others and talking amongst themselves to notice him trying to get their attention.

“I’ll be right back with your food,” their server said, turning and fleeing again.

Steve watched her go, looking as if he wanted to run for the nearest door himself.

“I’d ask why people think we’re dating,” Tony said between sips of his ice coffee, “but I’m going to have to assume it’s because we’re too cute a couple.”

“I guess so,” Steve said, picking up his drink so abruptly he nearly upended it on himself.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony said.  “I’ve been on worse dates.”

“Oh boy,” Steve said with a snort.  “That’s exactly what a guy wants to hear.  Could be worse.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow.  “Sorry?”

“It’s nothing,” Steve said, downing half of his ice tea in one sip.

“Steve,” Tony said, softly.  “I didn’t mean it in a bad way – I just meant that it could have been some paparazzi taking pictures of us instead of a server making a mistake, that’s all.”

“I know,” Steve said, fiddling with his drink.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“If I wasn’t already with Bucky I’d have asked you out ages ago,” Tony said.  He froze as his brain frantically backpedaled.  Why the hell had he said _that_?  He glared down at the ice coffee.  Was it enchanted somehow?  Had it been spiked with some kind of serum?  Why else would he be admitting something like that to Steve now of all times?

“You don’t have to lie,” Steve said with a scowl, draining the rest of his drink. 

Their server zipped up to their table with their beef dips at top speed, nearly sending herself sprawling.

“Thanks,” Steve said.  He asked for another drink and set about demolishing the food on his plate, eyes locked on his fries.

“I’m not lying,” Tony said, sliding his plate towards him.  “I don’t know why I said it but I’m not lying.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said through a mouthful of food.  “You don’t need to keep repeating it.”

“I think my drink’s been spiked,” Tony said.  “Something’s wrong.”

Steve went still.  “What’s wrong?  Should I tell Thor to get us out of here?”

“I don’t know,” Tony said.  “I don’t feel any different – I just can’t stop putting my foot in my mouth.”

“I see,” Steve said.  “If you’re not feeling any different it’s probably just because you’re overtired.”

“I’m not overtired,” Tony muttered, sullenly.  “I slept.”

“You’re been working long hours,” Steve said.

“Because I had to work,” Tony said.  “I can’t keep saddling Pepper with all the work.”

“You’ve been working long hours – you’re tired.  There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Steve said.  “And for the record, I don’t think your drink’s been spiked.”

“How do you know?” Tony grumbled.

“Jarvis is watching everything happening in the kitchen.  I think he would have noticed if there was some kind of magic user in the kitchen doing something,” Steve said.

“I think something’s wrong,” Tony insisted, looking around the room for their server.  He spotted her taking an order at another table and was about to get up and charge at her when Steve grabbed his wrist. 

“Tony,” Steve said, softly, “Why would someone spike your drink with something that would make you say something like that?  You’re probably just tired and it slipped out because you wanted to make me feel better about everything.”

“It could be truth serum,” Tony muttered, pushing the drink away from him.  He pinched the bridge of his nose.  Oh god what was he rambling on about?  Maybe he had needed another nap more than he had realized.

“Truth serum?” Steve frowned.  “What do you mean?”

Tony scowled.  “Well why would I say that otherwise?”

“Because you were trying to make me feel better?” Steve said.  “Are you _sure_ you’ve been sleeping properly?  Because I’m pretty sure I just said that and you’re looking at me like it’s the first time you’ve heard it.”

“I was not trying to make you feel better,” Tony said, cheeks flushing a deep red.  “Why would I want you to feel better?  That’s crazy talk.  I wouldn’t admit that just to make you happy.”

“So you wanted me to feel _worse_?” Steve asked with a chuckle, cocking an eyebrow.

Tony felt like his entire head had burst into flames.  “I – _oh fuck off_ ,” he said, picking up his ice coffee and taking a long, slow sip.  “I’m being careful alright?  It was weird – I was worried and I overreacted.  I don’t know why I said anything to you – I shouldn’t have.”  He rubbed his eyes.  “Alright – fine.  I’m tired.  Happy?”

“I’m flattered that you’re worried about me,” Steve said with a soft smile.  “When we’re done here you should get some sleep.  You deserve a break, Tony.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony muttered, glaring at the table.

“You’re a good guy.  Bucky’s lucky to have you,” Steve said.

“Bah,” Tony said, flapping a hand at Steve. “I’m lucky to have _him_.”

“He’ll like this place,” Steve said, nibbling at the last hunk of his sandwich.  “It’s got some really great food, and he’ll love the company.”

“Oh?  You don’t mind spending time with me even though I’ve got my mouth full of feet?” Tony asked,.  “Now I’m the one who’s flattered.”

“Of course I like spending time with you,” Steve said.  “I don’t know why you think I wouldn’t want to spend time with you.”

“Well, you know – how we met and all,” Tony said with a shrug.  “I was kind of under the impression that you’d never get to like me after that.  Big man in a suit of armor and all that crap.  Hard to forget that.”

Steve flinched like he had been slapped.

“What?” Tony said, looking around nervously.  Had Steve been hit by something?  Was something wrong?

“It’s nothing,” Steve murmured.  “I bit myself – that’s all.”

“Right,” Tony drawled.  He wondered idly if he should push the subject and then decided that it would be better to keep focused on the task at hand – on guarding Rhodey and Sam’s date.  The last thing he needed now was to get caught with his proverbial pants around his ankles because Steve had made an interesting expression.

“I didn’t hate you,” Steve said, dusting the crumbs from his fingers.  “When we first met.”

“Uh huh,” Tony said.  “Pretty sure you did.”

“I didn’t hate you,” Steve said.  “I was distracted – and afterwards, I should have been better at seeing that we were both trying to fix things ass-backwardly.  I’m sorry I didn’t talk with you about it earlier.”  He reached out and then put his hand back on his side of the table without touching anything.  “I shouldn’t have left you thinking I hated you.”

“Good to know,” Tony said.  How was he supposed to respond to something like that?  He hadn’t thought he would be having a meaningful conversation tonight with Steve – or _ever_ , really – and now that it was here he had no words to fill the empty space between them.  Should he apologize for his own failure to bridge the gap between them?  Should he focus on Rhodey and Sam?  Should he worry harder about the drink and possible truth serum?

“Sorry,” Steve said.  “I think I made things a bit too serious for tonight, huh?”  He smiled sheepishly. 

“I didn’t hate you either – I _don’t_ hate you,” Tony corrected quickly, before Steve could stop smiling.  “Things were a mess then and now everything’s all changed again and I don’t know what to try and fix and what to let go.”  He shrugged, glancing around the room again, both stalling for time and checking for danger.  “There’s a lot we should talk about when Bucky gets back.”

“Like our first fake date?” Steve asked with a laugh.

“Yeah,” Tony said with a chuckle.  “Sure.  He’ll get a kick out of that.”

“He will,” Steve agreed.  “He’ll enjoy the fact that I wore a shirt I may possibly have slept in to a somewhat fancy restaurant.”

Tony let out a barked laugh.  “I can’t smell it so you have nothing to worry about.”

“That’s what Bucky would say,” Steve said.

Their waitress scuttled by and refilled their drinks before swiping Steve’s empty plate.  “Do you want anything else?” she asked.

Tony could tell by just a glance at Steve that the super soldier wanted to ask for more food but for some reason Steve wasn’t saying anything.  Instead Steve was busy checking out the remains of the food on Tony’s plate, not so subtly eyeballing the last few remaining fries.  If he wasn’t going to ask for more food, it was up to Tony to ask for it for him.

“We’ll have another beef dip with fries,” Tony said.  “And I’d love a slice of your lemon cheesecake.”

Their waitress clutched Steve’s plate to her chest and madly scribbled on the notepad she had hanging from an elastic band on her wrist.

“You look _really_ familiar,” Tony said, eyes drawn to the swinging notepad.  “Are you sure we’ve never met?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met you before, no.  I’ll be right back,” she said, darting away.

“She moves fast,” Steve said.

“That she does,” Tony said.  “I swear I’ve seen her before somewhere.”

“She’s familiar?” Steve asked.

“I’m not sure,” Tony said.  “She looks a hell of a lot like the woman who served us back when I took Bucky out as a cat.”  Wait.  He had footage he could review stored away in Extremis – he could check!

“Tony?” Steve said.

“Busy – give me a sec,” Tony said, his mind a blur as he sorted through all the data he had saved from the past few months.  There, after a tedious search through footage, was the video of the day he, Pepper and Rhodey had taken cat-Bucky out, the day they had been captured – the day the paparazzi had caught pictures of them.

“It’s the same woman, isn’t it,” Steve said softly.

“She changed the colour of her hair and her eyes,” Tony said, sending a still image of the woman to Rhodey’s phone and Pepper’s.  “But yes.  It’s her.”

“Do you think she’s dangerous?” Steve asked, eyeing the cutlery as though assessing it’s potential as weaponry.

“I don’t know,” Tony said.  “She said she didn’t recognize me and it’d be pretty damn hard to not recognize me after all the shit that happened.”  He glanced over his shoulder at the kitchen and watched their waitress disappear inside.

Shit.  What should they do?  Was this a trap?  Or was it just bad luck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if I made any typos or mistakes and I'll fix them as soon as I can!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! : )
> 
> I'll be updating this fic every two weeks!  
> Let me know what you think! If you find any typos or weirdness, let me know and I'll fix it as soon as possible.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [ART: Buckitty, the Winter Tabby](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107634) by [AnonEhouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse)




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